Naked time.

"Mom. Mom. Mom. MOM." There was Riv in the bathroom doorway, grinning. I hardly even have to look down anymore to meet his gaze. That distance between growing boy and vertically challenged mother is rapidly shrinking. We could even swap shoes now. Same size. And given that he's got a sweet pair of SF Giants Filas, the idea is appealing to me ...

So there he was in the doorway with his mom, mom, momming. And I was trying to help Mags get in to the shower. I finally turned around and said "Yes?"

Smiling, he sputtered out, "Can I run around the house naked?" Without more than a second's hesitation I said "Oh. For sure. Go have some naked time."And I flitted my hand in a aw ... go ahn, ya silly scamp kinda way.

Naked time was something he'd asked for quite a bit when he was younger. His sister, too. They'd strip down, run around, squeal and be nakedly fantastic little humans. They'd shake their rumps and sing really loudly, and sometimes, if the stars were truly shining on us, they'd run out in to the backyard and catch the weather down the backs of their pants.

almost-naked time is just as much fun if there's hail.

So when Riv asked me tonight, I paused just for a moment. I wondered if it would be possible to help my children continue to be as body-positive as they are now for their whole lives. To never once question the beauty and rightness of being in their own skin. Could they truly, always, love themselves exactly as they are?

I can't predict if that will be true. But so far, so good.

Rock out as you are.


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