Do You Know Your Body?

Earlier this year while we were out for breakfast, Sophia, my 5-year-old, was making annoying noises with her mouth. It sounded something between a boat engine and a rusty bugle. Ella, her 8-year-old sister, repeatedly asked her to stop, but the noise persisted. My wife intervened.

“Sophia, please stop,” Tanya said. “You’re doing that just to annoy Ella.”

“I am not!” Sophia replied, frowning. “You don’t know what my body is about. Nobody knows my body but me!”

Sophia had a point. Her body is unique, and I was happy she protected it. She made me think about a critical issue facing parents: How can we best promote in our children a true appreciation and awareness of their bodies?

A body is more than the vehicle that carries us around and separates us from the rest of the universe. Each body is a unique confluence of physical, mental and spiritual entities and the only thing we can truly call our own. It is fragile, easily disrupted, and needs protection from countless threats. 

Since, as my mother-in-law says, babies aren’t born with instruction manuals, kids are responsible for much of their own training. The sooner children can grasp what their parts do and how, the sooner they can care for those parts. But the threat of poor bodily awareness doesn’t affect everyone the same way. 

In my job as a physical therapist, I’ve met octogenarians who still don’t know that smoking can kill them. Some people seem surprised when I tell them that more walking and less sitting might lengthen their lives.

I often work with stroke victims who need to relearn how to walk, eat, or take a shower. Many of them tell me during their rehab that they never recognized their own capabilities, and that they didn’t appreciate simple activities until they were unable to perform them. Given the chance, they would have done things differently, they say. But bodies come with time limits and a no-return policy.

I’ve met second graders who don’t know the proper names of male and female reproductive organs. This frightens me because when they know how their parts function, they’re more likely to prevent unwanted consequences.   

It’s a child’s right and responsibility to know their physical, mental and spiritual capabilities, and to learn how to care for their most precious possession. Everyone doesn’t need to go to medical school or become a scientist, just to learn to appreciate who they are. In time, our little animals might discover they can run marathons, discover cures for disease, or find inner peace. Their potential is endless. 

While Sophia indeed may have been trying to annoy her sister in the restaurant, I think she was exploring and experimenting with her parts, discovering what will be hers until she dies. As long as it didn’t disturb the other customers, I didn’t care. Sophia already owned the car; she was merely kicking the tires.