What My Little One Picked Up

Parenting Insights

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Updated: December 20, 2015
Originally Published: July 27, 2015

Whenever I’d be chatting with other parents, I’d often notice a recoil at my casual attitude. “Aren’t you worried about what they might bring in?” one mom would say, as she pulled out a gallon of hand sanitizer like it was a magic shield.

“Not really,” I’d reply, feeling pretty confident about my approach. In nearly six years, my daughter Mia has been under the weather only twice and has only missed one day of school. But what she has brought home? Well, there’s no sanitizer for that.

Words have power, and I’ve been acutely aware of this since my childhood. I grew up surrounded by girls who were never directly criticized, yet the relentless dieting and commentary from their mothers left deep marks. That’s why I’ve made it a point to share meals with Mia—whether it’s broccoli or dessert—without commenting on my body. She’s never heard either me or her dad use the word “fat” or make negative remarks about someone’s appearance. When she began to notice overweight individuals during our outings, I encouraged her to think of them as deserving of love because they may feel uncomfortable.

However, I’ve learned that I can’t just implement a charming parenting strategy and expect it to take root. Even in the heart of Brooklyn.

One evening, when Mia was just three, she pushed her plate away, leaving her cherry tomatoes untouched, and said, “I don’t want to get fat.” The influence of her best friend’s mom, who works in the fashion industry—think front-row at Fashion Week—was apparent. Her daughter echoed that world, and Mia was catching on.

The little girl would parade through our living room, commenting on her looks, food, and her many dislikes. “I hate pink hats, I hate puppies, I hate… everything.”

“We don’t say ‘hate’,” I would gently remind her. “It’s not a nice word.”

Mia would glance back, visibly torn between my gentle approach and the cooler persona of her friend.

Then came the night when I was tucking Mia in, surrounded by her stuffed animals, and she whispered, “Goodnight, n_____.”

“What?!” I exclaimed.

She repeated it, and my husband and I exchanged disbelief. We dropped our voices to a whisper, something only dolphins could hear, and told her, “You must NEVER use that word again.”

After shutting her door, I stood in the hall, surrounded by her colorful collages. How had those words infiltrated our space? Our home of kindness and love? My husband was ready to call her school headmistress, but I rushed to stop him. “No, no, no, she didn’t hear it there.”

“How do you know?” he asked, concerned I had let her listen to rap music or stay up late for some questionable TV. Her little preschool was nestled in downtown Brooklyn, where teens often gathered, tossing around that word casually.

I sat on the floor, bewildered. I realized you can only curate a child’s world for so long, but this happened way faster than I anticipated. I understood I needed to explain why some words are hurtful, in a way that made sense for her age.

The next evening, I sat her down after dinner and said, “We don’t say ‘hate’ because we truly don’t hate anything. What we feel is dislike, and that’s about how something makes us feel, not the thing itself. It’s our feeling, and yes, we can change that feeling.” She pondered that, and then asked, “But why are the kids laughing when they say it?”

It was a valid question about a complex issue, and I did my best to explain. I grappled with my own discomfort and guilt. And that’s the beauty of parenting: having someone challenge your beliefs and make you articulate them. Over time, I hope this will enhance our bond as she matures. Meanwhile, I’ll have some Dove ads playing in the background when her fashionable friend’s mom picks her up.

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In summary, while we can strive to create a nurturing environment for our children, the realities of outside influences will always challenge us. It’s all part of the journey of parenthood, where we learn and grow alongside our little ones.

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