On Sunday evening while I’m making dinner, Jane comes into the kitchen.
“Mama,” she says, “all I need to be a princess is to have hair like this, ” she makes a swooping motion over her forehead and ear, “and to be skinny right here,” she puts her hands on her waist.
I blink. A voice inside my head starts screaming, Oh God, no! She’s going to be anorexic! Or bulimic! Help! What do I do?
The voice I speak with is remarkably calm. “No, honey,” I say. “In order to be a princess you have to marry a prince. Or be the daughter of a king.”
“No, Mama,” she says. “I have to be skinny right here.” She lifts her hands from her waist and lowers them again emphatically.
The voice inside my head is freaking out. You idiot! You let those #@$%&* Disney Princesses into the house, and look what happened!
I kneel down in front of her. I say, “Did you know that some princesses are fat?”
She shakes her head. “No they’re not.” She knows all about princesses and they’re all skinny right here.
I try again. “Do you know who your Father is?”
“Dada!”
“Yes. But you have a heavenly Father, too.”
“God!”
“Yes. And do you know who God is?”
“God!”
“Yes. God is God. But God is also the King. God is the King of kings. God is the biggest King there is. And you are God’s daughter. So what does that make you?”
She thinks for a second, then grins. “A princess!”
“That’s right,” I say. “You already are a princess.”
She gives me a big hug and then runs to the bedroom to tell Jack.
I stand up and stir the onions on the stove, not at all convinced that I’ve handled this correctly or even well. I silently curse the Disney Princesses for bringing this crisis upon me.
I will freely admit that we live in a bubble. It’s an intentional choice Doug and I make to shield our kids from most of the commercial crap that’s out there.
But it’s a bubble, not an armored tank. So it’s permeable. Our kids have friends. And grandparents. And other relatives. And they don’t all hold the same views that Doug and I do. Which means things like the Disney Princesses seep in, regardless of how I feel about them.
For the most part I just let it go. I figure making a big deal about something just, well, just makes it a big deal.
But as I stir the onions, I wonder if we need a moratorium on princesses who are skinny right here. Jane is beautiful, and she has a beautiful athletic body. But she’s not skinny. And I don’t ever want her to think she has to be skinny.
For now, I’ve punted on this issue. But I know it will come back. It won’t always be the Disney Princesses who are skinny right here, but it will be someone. And how do I tell her so she believes me that she’s beautiful and her body is beautiful even though it doesn’t look like Cinderella and her ilk?
On Monday, I tell my mother-in-law, “No Disney Princess stuff for Christmas.”
Half an hour later, Jane is telling her that she wants Disney Princess Polly Pocket dolls for Christmas.
Once more, I utter oaths of loathing against those *%&#* Disney Princesses.
A serious tool in our potty training arsenal with Miranda was Disney Princess underwear, I am sorry to say. But it worked. Sad and I resisted for a long time. Oh, well.
Gr, I hate the Disney princesses and I constantly hope and pray that Sarah will miraculously have no interest in them. But then I have to remind myself that I grew up playing constantly with Barbie, who in some ways may be a better role model than the princesses (she was an astronaut, for heaven’s sake), but her body is far far far less realistic than any Disney princess. To be a Barbie you not only have to be skinny right here, but you have to be big right here, too. And while I have had my fair share of self-esteem issues through the years, I think I have still turned out okay so far. The best thing I can do is to constantly remind Sarah how loved she is, and remind her who her Father is. I think you handled it beautifully, Kimberlee, and I’m not sure I would call it “punting”.
I’m with Cathee on this one – you handled it wonderfully. Try as we might to keep the “world” out of our homes, it inevitably creeps in. Reminding your children about how much you and God love them will go a long way to giving them protective armor but they will still face some slings and arrows along the way. You’re doing a great job!
I am always amazed at how those cookie-cutter princesses wiggle through the cracks (it must be those super miniscule hips of theirs). As quick as I could houdini one out, another would take her place. Finally, I just outlawed them – replacing the uberskinny royalty with no-name faeries, Fancy-Nancy, and the like.
Now, Bits doesn’t even remember the princesses. Her current hero’s rock! Nancy Drew, Hermione Granger, and Princess Leia (who, by the way, is the only acceptable princess – I mean, how can you not love a woman who uses the line: “you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerfherder!”)
There is light… but you might have to become very good at ‘losing’ certain toys and books.
But maybe I am not the best person to listen to — my parenting techniques are based upon misdirection, deception, and mockery (my girl and I call each other nerfherder on a regular basis)…
When we had the Disney princess fascination, limited them for a time until our daughter matured a bit more and then she seemed better able to handle them. It seems for many of my daughters friends the marketing and movies of the Disney princess image is too much to handle. It’s way more than when we were children and just watched the movies. One other thing that helped was when we began to read the original versions of the fairy tales which give quite a different view of princess-life than Disney! That and the Chronicles of Narnia! Once our DD met Lucy and Susan, her loyalties changed! That is not to say she has had weight questions, even at 5!!!!!! She is in ballet and her grandmothers talk about their weight quite often, so even cutting Disney out doesn’t quite work.
Does she know about Princess Fiona from “Shrek?”
Nice thick waist on her!
Since you spend so much time on FB (ha!), I thought I should double post here, just in case you missed our Christmas letter posting: http://webwrench.com/christmas2010/
love you, S.