I'm a Role Model?!

I hadn't thought much about being a role model before having a daughter.  The realization that I am her primary model of what a woman should be is mildly terrifying.  I've had to watch what I say like never before.  I'm not talking about cursing - the worst I ever say is "crap!"  (Though I've had to cut that out, too - not something I want to hear coming from my 2 year old's cute mouth!)  I'm talking about the way I talk about myself.  Gone are the days of constantly moaning to Jamie that I feel chubby with the seemingly-permanent post-baby weight stuck on my body.  Gone are the days of vocalizing my wishes that some part of me was different/thinner/prettier.  I may still feel those things, but I've had to learn to be more content with myself so that she doesn't get the wrong idea.  I don't want Gisèle growing up thinking that she needs to be constantly aware of what pants size she's trying on, and thinking that there's something wrong with her body.  I don't want her looking at herself and trying to find flaws.  That time will come soon enough - as soon as her friends start introducing those words - "fat," "chubby," "ugly," - into her vocabulary.  I just don't want it to come from me.

There's a lot of responsibility that comes with being a mother to a daughter.  I want her to know from the start how beautiful, smart, funny, sweet, and lovable she is.