I want our children to soar. To be bigger and better than they ever dreamed possible, but shielding them from anything with a hint of detouring their journey to be their personal best is not the answer.

Building self-esteem and self worth in our children should be a work in progress, teaching the difference between reality and the images they’re bombarded with. Not intending to promote myself as a pillar of parenting or besmirch others, I must say that many of us are simply too lazy (or busy) to see this as an important parenting obligation.

Much like the “birds and the bees” talk, you can’t wait for the “right time” to explain it all and hope to undo any bad information already programmed into their little brains. It’s an ongoing process of learning that toys and celebrities are manufactured entities and not in any way reality based. I choose to reinforce that human perfection is a birthright. All of us flawed; shorter or taller than we may have chosen to be, not as skilled in some areas as others, but perfect because we’re humans in a world of differences, which are to be celebrated. My little one is confident that she’s as beautiful as anyone else she sees because of this love for human differences.

I’m a self admitted hippie and totally committed to teaching my “all humans are glorious” theory but I’m appalled at an extreme I see running rampant. Child worship.

Believing that we're all inherently gifted with the beauty of simply being alive is very different from being told that we're the cutest kid on the block and if anyone else is cuter we are somehow less than.

I’m stunned as I see so many parents hanging onto every little utterance, as if golden words of wisdom, surely answering all mysteries of the universe were being answered by their three year old. These are the same people who’ll have a need Prozac with a vodka chaser when they get the news that their perfect child didn’t make the soccer team.

And do not get me started on the “princess” paraphernalia I see girls wearing. Of course she’s your little princess, but reinforcing the “I’m super special, a little princess”, and all I do “rocks” and is a “great job” fuels our daughters with an unrealistic ideal which she will use to compare herself to others with for the rest of her life.

My children were, for better or worse, born to a mom who barely hits the 5-foot tall mark. Encouraging them to aspire to the runways of Milan would not only border on child abuse, but also again, teach them to base their self-image with the images of the world.

If you’re filling your child’s formative years with obsessive parental adoration, fighting their battles for them and not instilling a personal sense of self worth, you’re committing what should be a death penalty offense. Ok, I’m being dramatic, but at the very least you should be made to don the orange jumpsuit and pick up trash on the highway while wearing an “I was a suck up parent and it’s all Barbie’s fault” sign on your back.