By Patricia Gallagher Newberry
Enquirer contributor

As a teen and young adult, I turned to the book My Body, My Self for information and inspiration about my ever-morphing body.

As a parent, I could use a sequel - call it Their Bodies, Themselves - to help my children through their morphing years.

I knew how to help them as infants: Warm sleeper, dry diaper, full tummy. I knew what to do in the toddler years: Keep them clean, keep them calm, keep them in their clothes.

But now - with two children inching toward puberty and the third in the "I'll do it!" stage - I'm a little less certain how much to care for their bodies and how much to let them care for themselves.

Beatrice, halfway between 4 and 5, can dress herself, bathe herself, wash her own hair, brush her own teeth and, when the mood strikes, swipe her underarms with my deodorant. Unless she's taking forever and a year - and, gee, that only happens two or three times a day - I pretty much restrict my involvement to prompts and praise. And hairstyling. She picks the accessory; I install it.

A.J., at 7, has been self-sufficient in the grooming department for a while now. "Go take a bath, buddy," I tell him after dinner. He's in, he's out, he's done, except for draining the tub. Most recently, he's added hairstyling, complete with mousse and spray, to his morning routine. I'm not sure I believe his refutations of a love interest in the first grade, but I admire his snappier, dappier look just the same.

Frances, meanwhile, is 9 by the calendar but about 12 or 13 by the hormonal clock.

I recently asked my 4-foot-8, 70-pound eldest what she thinks of her body.

"My stomach sometimes looks fat right after dinner," she lamented. "But it's fine again by morningtime."

She also told me she likes her legs best because they are thin and her skin least because it has pimples.

(Clarification: They are really just a few blackheads, which would disappear if she'd use any of the many tubes of face cleanser under the sink. But to her, they are pimples.)

Still needed

By virtue of her age and gender, she is morphing the most quickly of the three. Her hair, her skin, her shape and her teeth are all being ravaged by the onset of adolescence. She likes that she'll soon be eye-to-eye with me. She likes less the retainer she now wears around the clock and the prospect of the braces to come.

And while she can certainly care for her own body and its needs, she still likes help with some tasks, especially hair care. Styling, too. (I'll be crushed the day - and I know it's coming - when she no longer wants me to fix her hair.)

For the most part, the kids still count on me to issue the grooming orders. I decide when it's time to apply the soap or shampoo, to yield the toothbrush and floss, to employ the Q-Tips and nail clippers.

But I am trying to hold back, if just a little. I supervise the bathroom routines less frequently and apologize for interrupting their privacy more frequently. Little by little, I'm becoming less the enforcer of body care and more the encourager.

(OK, true confession time: I still swab the kids' ears and clip their nails. But, hey, those are dangerous jobs with dangerous tools when three kids are gathered around one sink.)

More chapters ahead

Still, I'm certain I'd tear through Their Bodies, Themselves should such a title ever hit the shelves.

With a 4-, 7- and 9-year-old, I'd need only the early chapters for now.

But soon - too soon - I'll need plentiful advice on how to deal with my children's exploding sweat glands, sprouting hair follicles and (gasp!) developing body parts.

Experience in diapering a baby's bottom or braiding a grade-

schooler's hair won't be sufficient, I'm guessing, to parent through those pubescent plagues.

E-mail newgal@marriedwchildren.com