Ava on Love

Last week Ava said to me, "Mom, I'm in love with Mattheo."

Me: "Really?"

Ava: "Yep.  He's really funny, like me.  That's why I love him."

Me: "Well, I'm sure you like him a great deal, but you're not in love, Sweetie."

Ava:  "I am, Mom.  I'm in love with Mattheo." 

I let it go and went back to whatever it was I was doing.  Then tonight while we were driving she said, "Mom, I used to love Brewster."

Me:  "Oh laws, Ava.  You don't know what love is!"

Ava:  "Yes I do.  And I used to love Brewster."

Me:  "But you don't anymore?"

Ava:  "No.  Not anymore."

Me:  "Well, can you tell me what love is?  How do you know you're in love?"

Ava:  "Well, your face is really shiny and you walk around with a big grin on your face all the time.  That's how you know you're in love." 

Me:  "Sheesh." 

Another time I tried to talk to Ava about boys.  It's crazy that you have to have a talk about boys with a five year old, but that's society for you.  It wasn't nearly as bad as having to explain to Ava what a maxi pad was used for.  This after her repeatedly pestering me about the feminine hygiene products she saw in the bathroom drawer.  She's a very curious person.  Now she says to me all the time, "Are you having your period?"  Wow.  Word to the wise: hide your Tampax asap and install a lock on the bathroom door. 

Anyway the talk about boys came when she walked into the living room and said, "I'm hot!" and I told her she could put on a short sleeve shirt if she was hot, but she said, no I'm not that kind of hot.  Then she tells me what hot means: hot means that boys like you.  If it were possible to have steam coming out of my ears like Elmer Fudd then my ears would have been burning. 

What followed was a talk about why there are so many more important things to be than "hot".  And why it doesn't matter what boys think, it matters what she thinks.  And I might have tried to convince her that boys were gross and slightly dumb and a pain in the neck.  Except for her daddy and grandpas, of course.  Oh well.  Raising a girl is definitely eye-opening.  What is difficult is all the messages in the media sent directly to girls...whether it be that annoying Victoria's Secret Angel commercial with young women strutting the streets of Prague in their undies or the billboards we pass on the way into SLC from up north with semi-sized butts and boobs advertising some plastic surgery center, what girls see is what is most important to society when it comes to women is their bodies.  Not their brilliant minds, or the way their unique talents and gifts can make a difference in the world, but if their bodies fit into the desired mold of idealized beauty. 

Lately I've evaluated how I might be adding to this perception.  Of course I want her to look clean and nice when she goes to school.  This means sitting in a chair in front of me while I continue to perfect my french braiding skills.  She hates it.  She really does.  She couldn't care less if I do a dutch braided headband on her.  She just wants to play.  I mean it's a fine line between teaching your child to value themselves enough to take care of themselves physically and sending the message that it's uber important how you look to the outside world.  Being a mom is tough. 

As for Mattheo, be forewarned, you just might be next week's Brewster.  Girls.