The "F" word

And no...it is not the word you are thinking of.

It is a dirty little three letter word that is banned in our house.

F-A-T

As soon as I found out I was pregnant with a girl, I decided that this word and all it's counterparts (chubby, chunky, plump...you get it) would be banned from my vocabulary. To be perfectly honest,  I would rather hear you say the actualy four letter "F" word, than "FAT" around my kids. Let me explain.

I have ALWAYS had body issues. As the chubby girl raised in a family of thin women, I have always struggled with my body image and self confidence. I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I can't remember a time when I wasn't on a diet. I am a little like the Rain Man in the sense that I can look at a meal and tell you how many calories it is, how many Weight Watchers points it is worth, or whether it is Atkins friendly. It is exhausting, and consuming and I never want my daughter to live this way. I know I can't control it for her entire life, but I can now.

Words burn. Somebody can say one tiny, meaningless thing not realizing it can shape your whole idea of yourself and how you will portray yourself in the future. Stinging little zingers - "Oh look how chubby you're getting." or "Wow, you're really filling out" or "Don't worry, it is just a phase, you'll sprout up and thin right out". Well I am 5 feet tall...that last one didn't quite pan out. And I can't even tell you how many times I have heard "You have a such a pretty face". Well let me say, that is a such an ass backward compliment.

So, needless to say, I am a little sensitive about how people talk to my daughter. It makes me cringe when I hear someone tell her she has "chubby little legs" or a "fat little bum". I know people can think it is cute and playful. But I also know my daughter absorbs everything and is already analyzing the crap out of every little thing she hears. Today she was "exercising" with her daddy. He was doing his workout regimen and she tries to copy him. When they were done, she came into the room and announced to me "Momma, look...I was exercising and now my belly is smaller!" Where the hell does she come up with this stuff? I realized in this moment it is going to get harder and harder to shield her.

"Exercising is really healthy for you, Grace. I am so proud of you." This is the route I am going. Focusing on the positive. She has been really into talking about what is "healthy" to eat and what isn't. So we talk a lot about that. Luckily, she really loves her fruit and veggies, so that makes my life a little easier. Because let's face it, trying to sell the whole "healthy living" thing would be a real bitch if the only fruit or veggies she was into came in the form of gummy bears and potato chips.

Now here is the upside to this whole rampage. Trying to teach my daughter healthy living and having a positive self image has made me, for the first time in my life, not so obsessed. I have decided the only way I can really teach her how I want her to live is to actually live that way myself. I don't obsess about food. I eat when I am hungry and try to make smart choices. I try to keep healthy options in the house. I do not make her clean her plate, or eat if she isn't hungry. And I don't let her pick on junk all day. When I feel she has had enough sweets I don't let her have anymore. But if she is hungry I will never deny her food. She is welcome to pick on fruit, cheese, veggies, yogurt. She is active and bouncy and obviously loves to run around (as all three year olds do).

So this is a part of my parenting job that is very important to me, and scares the hell out of me. So far it is actually pretty easy. But the thought of parenting a teenage girl at some point is so freaking daunting (for a variety of reasons). Guess I will cross that bridge when I come to it. And hopefully I will become a little wiser along the way.

The New Man in My Life...

He's short and chubby. He sports a mean fauxhawk. He's controlling and demanding, but he makes up for it with big, wet toothless kisses and cozy cuddles. He can be a little embarrasing in public, but then again so can I.

Easy there, folks. This is a G-rated blog (kinda). I am talking about my squishy, cuddly, drooly, little baby boy -  Patrick Daniel. He is seven and a half months old now. I can hardly believe it. Time always flies, but I feel like things are moving especially fast with him. Maybe it's because most days I barely have a second to catch my breath. So those rare days when I do have a free second and I actually stop to look at him...he is getting so freakin' big!!

I cannot even explain how much I love this kid. I actually have to restrain myself from biting his little face. Yes, really.

I feel like I am finally starting to understand Patrick. I do think it took me a little longer to get acquainted with all of his likes, wants and needs. I would say we weren't really on the same wavelength until he was about six months old. I know all kids are different, and believe me...I have heard it. "Don't expect the same baby twice." Guess I had to experience it for myself to actually understand. Because never were two babies as different as Patrick and Grace.

Grace was a pretty mellow baby, but she was intense and serious. It took a lot to get a laugh out of her. She didn't ever really have stranger anxiety. She slept through the night at 8 weeks old.

Now scratch that, reverse it...and you have Patrick.

He is the happiest little guy you will ever meet. He is full of giggles and grins. As far as the stranger anxiety, it is a new experience, indeed. He needs to always have me in his sights. He will cry if I put him down and walk out of the room. And when other people hold him, he will only tolerate it if he can visualize me. Really, kid...where do you think I am going? Although, I will admit, I kind of like that he needs me the way he does. It's sweet (and totally exhausting all at the same time). 

Sleeping...sleeping? What's that? OK...I guess it is not that bad. He probably sleeps through the night once a week. The other nights are a total crap shoot. You might be up once, you might be up four times. Thank God he is cute.

So far, here is what I have figured out about my little man:

Likes
 - His sister...he loves that girl. All she has to do is walk in the room and he squeals. She is totally a rock star in Patrick's world.
 - The Fresh Beat Band. If you don't know who they are, congratulations. If you do, I sympathize.
 - Bananas
 - Peek-a-boo
 - His paci and his lovey blanket (named Raffi, cuz he's a giraffe...cute, right?). In this way he IS like his sister.
 - The baby carrier. That kid would spend 24 hours a day attached to my person. Best money I ever spent.
 - Cuddles (lots and lots)
 - Biting things.


DISlikes
 - Loud noises...if you ever want to see the saddest lil' boo-boo face ever...just clap really loud around Patrick.
 - Being left alone. How dare I try to step away from him to pee...the nerve!
 - Peaches
 - His car seat (although he is getting much better about this one). The first three months of his life he strongly protested car rides. S-T-R-O-N-G-L-Y


So, we are still figuring each other out. And I suspect I will be discovering new things about my little man each day. And each day I will try to remind myself not to bite him (even though he is so freakin' edible)

Grace-isms (Part 2)

Back by popular demand...here are some more "Grace-isms". Yes, this is my life, you guys.

 - During a conversation with Pat about what kind of bugs she enjoys...
Pat - "Grace, do you like bugs?"
Grace - "Ummm, sometimes."
Pat - "What kind of bugs do you like?"
Grace - "Well, I got no beef wit ladybugs."


 - Grace likes music, which makes me so happy. And she certainly has her preferences already. She tells me from the back seat of the car "I only like girl songs, Mama." And when a song comes on that she does like, she hollers "Mama, dis is my jam!!" as she bops along to the music with her eyes closed like Ray Charles.


 - In the mornings, Grace has gotten into the habit of asking "How you feewin today, mama?" And if I am looking a little disheveled (which, let's face it, is most mornings), she will ever so lovingly tell me "You look a wittle tired". She does wonders for the self esteem.


 - She is my mini-me. I get it. But sometimes it is kinda scary to see yourself mirrored in a little person. She definitely throws out some crazy sayings, and when I find myself asking...where the hell did she hear that???...oh yeah, it was me. And poor Patrick usually bears the brunt of it. Point in case: "Patwick, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I can't hear my show!" Luckily, the kid is happy to receive any attention from her and just laughs.


 - Lately, we have been experimenting with what words are, and are not appropriate to say. "Shit" being one that is most definitly INappropriate. When she was told this was a bad word, she totally outsmarted me and figured out a way to get away with it. "Mama, we never say shit, right. Shit is a bad word. You should never say shit. Patrick, did you know shit was a bad word. It's naughty, naughty, naughty. Mama, did you know I heard Auntie Beth say shit once. We should tell her it's a bad bad bad word." To cap off her speech and really drive the point home she sings a little tune about it. "Shit is a bad word, a bad word, we never say shit, no we never say shit."


 - Instead of saying "no" in response to something, she has made a habit of responding "not actually".


 - Now that she is potty trained, the amount of potty talk has really become too much. I will leave you with one golden highlight. And for those of you who are offended, I apologize. But you can't even argue with the creativity:

            "Mama, today I pooped and it looked like a fat carrot."