This is a collection of some of Charlotte’s newest things:

Do you see a theme?  Well played Disney marketers, well played.  Good job getting your characters on everything from the cup my kid drinks from to the training pants on her little hiney.  Disney has an even further reach than the toddler department.  I’m interested to see what’s next.  I’m not picking on Disney, exclusively.  Sesame Street seems to have their hands on preschool merchandise as well.  You should see all the Elmo stuff in our house.  The thing that has been sticking  out to me lately is PRINCESS.

She loves those snow boots.  I’m a good little suburbanite mommy so we searched the aisles of Target for the perfect pair.  I gave her the choice of all the boots on the shelf and she said “Pincess!”  We went to a 3-year-old girl’s party this weekend.  Princess theme.

Hmm.  I’m not sure how I feel about all this.  I’ve read the criticism of the whole princess industry and how it’s making our daughters image obsessed, subservient prince-seekers who will end up on the pole if we let them watch The Little Mermaid.  I’m worried I’ll have to start dressing like Pam on “The Office.”  She was “Dr. Cinderella” for Halloween to show her daughter positive princess role models.

Courtesy: NBC

I love princess stuff.  Love it.  I can try to deny it, but I’m a pink, glittery girl-girl at heart and always have been.  We watched “Tangled” this weekend because I LOVE THAT MOVIE!  Of course Charlotte loved it too.  I find the more recent princess movies have much stronger, more confident female leads then classics like “Snow White” and “Cinderella.”  I think they send better messages.

I took a class in college called Gender and Media Culture and it ruined every story for me, ever.  This is the class where we had to watch “The Accused” and “Boys Don’t Cry.”  We got to analyze the rape scenes and discuss how the Cinderella Syndrome is a worldwide epidemic, forever infecting women’s psyches.  Apparently all the princess fairy tales of our youth are the reason women end up contestants on “The Bachelor” because the only thing they’ve ever been told is that they have to find a man to be happy.  Oh, did you know that EVERYTHING is a metaphor for deflowering a virgin girl?  I didn’t either until I took this class.

So, you see my dilemma.  I decided to take it easy and just go with it.  She’s just a little girl and princesses are just a part of that.  If I make a big deal about it, it becomes a big deal.

She got that “Tangled” book pictured above with a little hair clip of Rapunzel’s hair.  I showed her how it lit up and you put it in your hair.  I was never more proud of her after what she did next.  She didn’t want it in her hair.  She took it and made it a stethoscope.  She “listened” to our hearts before making it the thing doctors use to look in your ears.  Then she said, “I doctor!”

I don’t think I’ll need to dress like Dr. Cinderella after all.  My little princess is already practicing medicine.

As a teenager I would stand at my bedroom mirror with a copy of Seventeen magazine propped up so I could see step-by-step how to style my hair with one of their umpteen “Get Gorgeous” or “Hot Hair” tutorials. I’m not sure why I remember one issue in particular.  Maybe it’s because  I spent a great deal of time modeling my ‘do after a model’s in that issue.  Alicia Silverstone was on the cover.

Ah!  There it is.  Thanks Google.

July, 1995.  That would have been a month before my 14th birthday and two months before I started high school.  I bet I had watched reruns of MTV Spring Break that day.  I wonder if I logged on to my America Online account that morning before ballet class?  Probably.  I no doubt took magazine quizzes to find out my dating style, even though I had never been on an actual date.  Basically, I was at the height of my adolescent insecurity and unknowingly headed straight for full-on teen angst and a diagnosed eating disorder in another year-and-a-half.

I think I remember trying for something new that summer.  I was headed for a new school, high school, so obviously a new hairstyle was in order.  No matter how many times I pulled my turquoise and magenta paddle brush through my hair, I couldn’t get it just right.  I would frown and say something to my reflection like, “Ugh!  I hate my hair!”  I slammed the magazine shut and stared at Alicia Silverstone in all her mid-nineties coolness.

Whenever the issue of beauty magazines and women’s body image comes up, I think of that issue of Seventeen.

Fast-forward 17 years to the other night.  I went through the Health and Fitness part of Pinterest to get some inspiration for working out and shedding a few holiday pounds.  Later, I stood at the bathroom mirror with my iPad propped against the mirror, trying to do my hair like a woman in a Pinterest hair tutorial.  I stared at my 31-year-old reflection, getting further frustrated that I suck at elegant loose fishtail braids.  Instantly Alicia Silverstone popped in my mind.  I looked at myself and shook my head loose of my attempted braid.

I thought of my two-year-old daughter and my pledge to not obsess over weight and appearance.  Yeah, I weigh more now than I ever have now that I have a desk job, but I’m healthy.  My husband and I  decided awhile ago not to describe people as “fat”, “skinny”, “chunky”, or “chubby” around our daughter there’s really no reason for it.

Just then she came in.  She was giggling and proudly showing me her full belly after dinner.  I closed my Pinterest app and scooped her up.  I said to her.  “Charlotte, you are so beautiful!  You have a beautiful, strong, healthy body.  Do you love your body?”  She smiled and said, “Ya! Lob my bodee!”  I smiled and instantly dismissed all the negative things I think about my appearance.  Whether it was 1995 Seventeen magazine or 2013 Pinterest, it seemed silly and I scaled back my weight loss resolutions.  I said “Mama loves her body too!”