“High five for mommy! 104! I haven’t weighed that since I saw Pearl Jam,” exclaimed the svelte adorable mom to her toddler who cheered along, from her perch in the supermarket cart. I stood beside her, as I grabbed my own cart, and watched her triumphant cheer — which may have caused me to throw up in my mouth. Did I really witness that? Are we not more evolved?
I found the scene so upsetting on so many levels. Was it the fact that this fit chick who was taller than I am (5’6″ or do I claim) weighed 104, a number I haven’t seen since since I saw The Bangles? Or the awareness that this little girl was receiving a message that could change or define how she sees herself in years to come? Or was I simply annoyed she got to see Pearl Jam?
Of course, this immediately led me to that introspective place all moms go:
Have I said things to my own daughter that would lead her to believe she needs to be skinny to be happy? I mean, if I’m being honest, I’m quite sure I’ve asked my hubby a thousand times if things make me look fat, and I mean anything: “Does this new dress make me look fat?” “How about this new toothbrush?” “How about the cat? Does she make me look fat?”
As a gen Xer, I recall the age of fad diets and fad workouts. I remember Continue reading