When I got married, I weighed 123 pounds.
Now I weigh 159 pounds… ouch.
I don’t plan on seeing the 120’s again. In fact, to stay there, I had to maintain a steady diet of coffee and Marlboro Lights. I looked pretty good on the outside, but my insides were a mess.
When I had Number 7, I got up to, gulp, 203 pounds. So I’m 44 pounds down….another 25 or so and I’ll be really happy.
Don’t get me wrong, I do miss that rockin body, but I’m not beating myself up over it.
I’m completely aware of how a body-obsessed mom can totally fuck up her daughter’s self-image… and I really have developed an appreciation for the things my body is capable of.
I do my best to emphasize behavior and how we treat other people, and all that…
So then what the heck is up with my kids?
About two weeks after Number 7 was born, Number 4 said:
“Mom, why are you still so fat if there’s no baby in your tummy?”
Okay, I was pretty big still, so I’ll give her that one.
Then about 2 months ago she said:
“You know Mom, you don’t look as bas as you used to.”
I guess that was supposed to be a compliment.
That was followed shortly after by Number 3’s:
“Mom, I’m glad I don’t look like you.”
Then about a month ago, Number 4 was talking to Number 5:
“I wish Mom was a princess. Then we would live in a castle. Actually, Mom can’t be a princess, because princesses are skinny, and Mom is fat.”
WHAT THE HELL??? I mean, it’s not like the fire department has to come take down a wall and use some sort of crane in order for me to exit the house.
And then, just the other day, Number 5, who is two years old, joined in the fun.
She was sitting in the kitchen waiting for her lunch.
I noticed her staring.
At my boobs.
She was pretty much mesmerized by them.
Without taking her eyes off them she asked,
“Mom? Why are those so big? And why do they go like this?”
And she shook not just her head, but her entire body from the waist up. Like a bobble-head doll. Just sitting there, shimmying, and shaking, and wiggling. For at least a minute.
That one made me laugh.
And then I actually looked down and gave them a shake.
Her impression was pretty much dead on.
Thankfully, Number 7 can’t talk yet.
I’ve got at least a year before she decides to put her two cents in.