What.The.Fuck.
She's 6. I complain about my size. I know I do. But I have made a very conscious effort to NOT talk about weight and size around my kids. Ever. When I see things on tv talking about size and weight or some girl complaining about her size, I say, "You know it only matters if you're healthy. NOT skinny!. Skinny ISN'T healthy all the time."
She gets that. But how do I keep the comparisons away? How do I encourage her to not worry about it. I mean...we are a fairly fit family. Ryan runs like a fool. I walk everyday and sometimes when the mood strikes I'll run for a minute or two. But I exercise. We eat pretty healthily. I let my kids eat snacks and junkfood once in a while. Cause Lord knows I love my McDonald's. It's a curse really. But I don't NOT ALLOW that stuff. I never diet. Ever. And I never talk about diets either. I don't exercise to lose weight. I exercise to not get fat. Because you know, I'm not dieting ever.
When I was a kid, my parents taught me to be a "member of the clean plate club". Which led to overeating. My parents never allowed us to have junkfood or go to fast food places. Partly because of money, but mostly because they only celebrated things with food. Good grades? Out to eat. Birthday? Out to eat. Having a bad day and need a treat? Out to eat. Everything good or comforting was treated with food. And when I was out on my own, you bet your sweet ass I ate whatever the hell I wanted too.
With my first marriage my ex was a fitness freak. He didn't LET me eat anything with fat. I mean I was eating fat free for 3 years. I did NOT like that. At all. Ever. I mean shit. I cried once, really and truly cried my eyes out in happiness, because he told me I could have a McDonald's hamburger. A plain old little hamburger. No fries, no mayo, (I LOVE MAYO), just a plain little 88 cent burger. His brother begged him for us to go. I loved his brother for that. But then had to work out for 3 hours the next day to "burn off the burger.". My ex would tell me everyday "I don't want a fat wife!"
When I'd go home for a visit, my mom would say, "SJT I have to show you something in the basement." And I'd follow her down and she'd shove a cookie or two in my mouth.
After my divorce I went fast food crazy. I think it's a diagnosable illness. Or it should have been. I must have gained 20 pounds post divorce. 20 happy/PTSD induced pounds.
My parents are both obese. They are. And my kids know it. They understand it. But we don't talk about how "fat" they are. We talk about how unhealthy they are. It's all about the verbage I guess. But is that really working? I try to do just about the complete opposite of my parents when it comes to food and my kids. My dad HATES it when I tell the kids they don't "have to finish all their food." He will literally tell them yes they do. And then we battle. But I usually win out.
So yes, I have issues with food and fitness. I just do. But I'm trying my best to not have my kids be prisoners of food and weight. But how do I keep it from happening? I'm worried.
1 comment:
Just another reason I get you. My first husband was just like that too. Only certain foods and in precise combinations. and the holy crap 2x a day workouts. Glad you got out too.
The best you can do is the best you can do...
Post a Comment