The title of this post came from a letter written by Edith Vanderbilt over a century ago when she was eight months pregnant with her only child, Cornelia. I read a snippet of the letter while visiting the Biltmore House with my sister and her children last month, and this sentence jumped out at me and brought tears to my eyes. Not that that’s saying much, as there are very few things that DON’T make me burst into tears these days — toilet paper commercials, burning the edges of a frozen pizza, and don’t even get me started on that Trace Adkins song “You’re Gonna Miss This.”

As of this Saturday, I’ll be eight months pregnant, just like Edith. I’ve been very annoyed a few times recently when older women have asked me when I’m due, and when I say “April,” they get these absolutely horrified looks on their faces and stare wordlessly at my stomach. Fortunately, none of them have then attempted to touch said stomach, or she would have found herself drawing back a bloody stump! I figured out, though, that when I’m standing in checkout lines, which is where each of these women have approached me, I tend to shift my weight forward and arch my back just to take the pressure off, and somehow this posture makes my tummy look about twice as big as when I stand up straight. So I guess I can’t totally blame them for looking so shocked.

My checkup last week was great, partly because it was the first one Ben’s gotten to go to in a while. Hearing Deacon’s little heart beating is a thrill every time. Another thrill was the fact that I had only gained two pounds since my last visit — I’m not going to tell you how much I had gained at THAT visit, but it was enough to really freak me out! My back pain has pretty much subsided for now, but my ankles and fingers are still pretty swollen by the end of every day, and every time I put my socks on, it’s a little harder to reach my feet than the time before. But no matter how irritating the side effects are, I really do like being pregnant. And while I’m looking forward to finally meeting this little person bounces around constantly and makes me feel like a human pinball machine, I already know I’m really going to miss having him this close.

Anyway, enough pregnancy talk. I had the most brilliant idea while watching the inauguration festivities a few weeks ago. While the Obamas were reviewing the parade, I was admiring how ladylike and beautiful Michelle looked and how cute the girls’ outfits were. Then suddenly, down the street came a high school band led by a bunch of young teenage girls dressed head to toe in skintight Spandex. They gyrated down the street in front of the President, wiggling their butts and thrusting their hips in time with the music, and I couldn’t help being struck by the contrast between them and the Obama ladies. Apparently someone had decided that Spandex and striptease moves were the appropriate attire and conduct for what was supposed to be a dignified event. And then I started thinking how great it would be if Michelle Obama would use her influence over the next few years to fight the trends of skankiness being marketed to little girls.

I’m not saying we should dress girls like boys, or keep them in ruffles and lace till they’re 18, but it seems like sexiness is being pushed on a younger audience every year. Having spent a lot more time in the children’s clothing department recently, I’ve noticed that while little boys’ clothing still features trains, trucks, puppies, and bugs, an amazing amount of little girls’ stuff either seems to be designed to look like miniature versions of adult clothing or else is spangled with slogans like “Hottie” or “Available.” And I’m talking toddler sizes. It might seem cute and harmless, but where’s the benefit? A normal mother would call the police if a strange man walked up to her two-year-old daughter and told her she was hot, so why would she deliberately dress her child to advertise the idea to a world full of strangers?

And then there was the girl I saw at the Poultry Festival a few years back. She might have been 12 years old, just barely into puberty, and she was walking down the street in a six-inch skirt and a tight T-shirt with “How ‘Bout Them Apples?” scrawled across her breasts. All I could think about was the fact that someone had let her walk out of the house dressed like that. Back then, it was shocking. Now, unfortunately, I see little girls dressed that way all too often. Ben calls them “prostitots,” and I think it’s a pretty apt description.

I’m not a big fan of dress codes — I know how easy it is to fool yourself into thinking that conforming to a set of external rules makes you “good,” no matter what you’re hiding from others or from yourself on the inside. But doesn’t teaching our little girls to present themselves as sexual objects and to dress and act provocatively from the very beginning cheat them out of their innocence?

Not every parent is falling for the trend, of course. I read a letter in Family Circle a few months ago from a woman who had taken her little girl shopping for a Christmas dress at a major department store. After sifting through the entire girls’ clothing section, they finally found what they wanted — a red velvet jumper with a white blouse. It was perfect except for the fact that the blouse had an ink stain on it, so the woman asked the department manager if they could order another one for her. The manager said no, she couldn’t, and they wouldn’t be getting any more of the dresses in because nobody wore dresses like that anymore. The mother then asked why, if nobody wore dresses like that, it was the only dress in the place that seemed to be sold out, while the racks of skimpy, clingy dresses were still fully stocked? The manager didn’t have an answer.

So I was just thinking, since Michelle Obama is a young, intelligent, and stylish woman with daughters of her own, she would be perfectly suited to take a stand on this issue. I heard one of the commentators on inauguration day say that Barack Obama makes a great role model for young black men who think that dressing and acting like gangsters is the only way for them to get through life, and I agree 100%. I just also happen to believe that his wife could be an equally great role model for young women of every race who think that being stick-thin and wearing as little clothing as possible will bring them happiness and success. Seems like a fabulous opportunity for Michelle to have a lasting impact on our culture.