Nothing to See Here…

Once, I asked my dad what he would have done differently raising us if he had a chance to do it again. He told me “I wouldn’t have battled you on the food issues.” The experts agree with him - do not engage in a power struggle over food with your child, they say. I think my dad learned the first reason why - you will not win. More importantly, the experts tell us, it creates a situation where food is given too much power.

As mothers, and especially as mothers of girls, we all worry about this. As a mother of five girls, I worry about it five times more than you (just kidding). I do worry about it a LOT. Previously, my worry was somewhat theoretical. My three oldest were all skinny-minnies and while they may have sometimes eaten poorly, I always knew they would outgrow it. And they all did. All three of them (ages 9, 20, and 22) are good eaters… they like veggies and salads and a variety of things. Heck, my Sarah started loving sushi when she was not yet 3.

My beautiful little Jadie-Beth, though, didn’t get the same genetic good fortune. She’s a big girl, off the charts at the doctors office. At age 4 (just turned), she is 52 pounds. She is an active little girl - goes to preschool full time. It’s a very active school with five playgrounds and an indoor activity center located in the school gymnasium called the Action Room. On weekends, we keep pretty busy, too.

A few months ago, to my horror, I witnessed another little girl call my daughter, my baby, fat. I was picking her up early from school, having sneaked out of work early. She had just woken from her nap and so I took her to the little girl’s bathroom to go potty. I waited outside the room, but the doors are kept open so teachers can supervise both boys and girls from the hallway. There was another group of girls from a different classroom going potty too. My Jadie must not have closed the stall door and I heard this little girl say “You’re FAT.”

I walked in then, blood rushing to my head. Jadie sat on the toilet with her pants around her ankles looking down at the floor. She wouldn’t look up. I wanted to shake this other child, but instead I said “That’s not a very nice thing to say at all. That sort of thing hurts people’s feelings.” I helped Jadie finish up and we left. I cried in the car.

I have known Jadyn was a big girl for awhile. She comes by it honestly - her mother (hi!) is a big girl, too. I remember the teasing well. It began when I was 5. We also, Jadie and I, have another thing in common - our siblings were/are all thin. I just wanted to fold her in my arms and take her away where no one could ever hurt her again.

There is quite a paradox here. For any of us who struggle with weight, we have two quite contradictory goals. First, we need to accept and love ourselves. Second, we need to change ourselves. Acceptance should mean “I’m fine like I am.” which is contrary to needing to change. The requirement to change means “I’m NOT fine like I am.” It’s an impossible balance. How does an overweight person feel valuable and worthwhile at the same time telling herself she must change?

Oh, Internet… I’ve thought these thoughts for a lifetime and you know what - fuck what I said in my last post - if I had a wish? If I had a fairy godmother giving me a fucking wish? I would save my baby from going through all the bullshit I have gone through in my life with these weight and body image issues. I would magically give her a fast metabolism, a love for broccoli, and a healthy obsession with exercise and somehow this would work to eliminate the years of pain and suffering over being the fat kid, the fat adult.

But I can’t do that, no matter how hard I wish. So what now?

Jadie is an active child, but her eating habits leave something to be desired. She’s a pretty typical four year old, but she went on New Food Lock-Down somewhere around the age of TWO. She won’t try new stuff and she really turns her nose up at so many things.

I don’t believe exercise is the issue, and I don’t think portion size (how MUCH she eats) is the issue.

I fully believe the issue is WHAT she eats.

Now, she’s four and as such, she does not have a driver’s license or a car. And quite frankly, even if she did, I doubt she could get insurance because, well, the temper tantrums would put her in a high risk category and she doesn’t have a JOB to pay those sorts of rates. The fact that she doesn’t SHOP FOR and BUY the ‘wrong stuff’ sort of puts the blame squarely on (looking around, nope, can’t find a single other person to blame) MY shoulders.

Tonight, we had roast chicken, potatoes, fruit, veggies, and rolls. She ate a roll. And a few bites of potatoes. This is typical. She had grilled cheese and applesauce for lunch and waffles for breakfast. Do you see a sign of a veggie anywhere in there? Heck, today she didn’t even have much in the way of fruit.

I’ve been parenting for 22 years and I’ve not played the power-struggle-over-food game with my kids. But I’m now entertaining the idea. I have to put some system in place to encourage (force, bribe, reward) her for trying new things and eating the ‘right‘ things. I also, perhaps, need to quit providing the wrong things. I mean, surely rolls at dinner aren’t horrible awful “quick, call Child Services!” sorts of transgressions, but maybe I need to eliminate them altogether. For Jadie.

Is that unfair to the others in the family who don’t have issues here?

If I tie in the evening snack to a successful dinner experience, will I find her suddenly stashing away mashed potatoes under her mattress or, even worse, eating only celery and paper products as the weight falls off her adorable cherubic little body? Will putting FOCUS on the food create those problems I wish to avoid, even while not focusing on them may create a different set of problems I wish to avoid?

If there is one way I’ll screw up my kids (and let’s be honest, I’m sure there are DOZENS of ways I have and will screw them up) it’s this food deal and it scares me the most. I don’t know how to walk this tight rope. I don’t know how to make her eat healthy and maintain a healthy weight without somehow giving the message that she’s not good enough JUST LIKE SHE IS. ‘Cause, Internet, she IS good enough.

But I don’t want the mean girls in the bathroom to call her names.

She’s my baby.

How can I do this without messing it all up? Help me, Internet. I don’t know the answers.