Another Mom Called Jelly Bean Fat – She’s Fine But I’m Not [Plus: 5 Things I Do To Help My Kids’ Self Esteem in a World That Constantly Wants to Destroy It]

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Weird mom encounters at the park: Someone should write that book. After all the weird things I’ve seen go down in public spaces designed for children yet that manage to also make their parents (sometimes) act like children, heck, should write that book. And it happened again the other day. While I am usually pretty good about letting this kind of thing roll off my back – if I had a quarter for every time someone threw shade at my parenting I could buy my own swing set – this time I’m having a hard time letting it go. I think it’s because it’s about Jelly Bean. Say what you will about me but please, for the love of regurgitated fish crackers, leave my kids out of it.

I think another mom called my baby girl fat. But maybe I’m overreacting?

There we were in the park, two women thrown together simply because of our cabin-fevered children, chatting about routine kid things. Then out of the blue she asked me what size Jelly Bean wears. Without thinking much about it, I answered, “Six.”

“But isn’t she only three?” the Other Mommy asked as I detected a small hint of superiority creeping into her voice. “My Vienna is three but she’s still wearing size 24 months!” She chuckled fondly, “Little peanut!”

“Well, yes,” I stammered, “but she’s got her dad’s long torso and I swear they make little girl’s clothing so tight and short!” (True story: I never had the midriff problem with my boys and they all have long torsos too.) I added, “Plus, that’s only for tops. She wears a size three in pants and shorts. Although frankly I’m just glad she’s wearing clothes as she’s been on kind of a naked kick lately…” As my face heated up I wondered why I was explaining all this to a relative stranger, especially one that thought that a toddler wearing a size smaller than her age was brag-worthy.

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Other Mommy must have seen the expression on my face and hurriedly apologized – and this is probably what made it so painful, because I don’t think she’d intended to speak her mind quite so clearly – saying, “Oh no! I didn’t mean she’s like huge or anything. I just meant Jelly Bean is, you know, well she’s not like a little beanpole right? She’s just built big! Solid. She’s one of those cute chubby kids! ”

“Okay, stop, I get it!” I held up my hand before she could break out into an a capella version of “She’s a Brick House” (she’s mighty, mighty, letting it all hang out – what does that even mean?!). The thing is she was correct, in a clinical sense. Jelly Bean, if you recall, was a big baby. All my babies are big. My husband was a nine-and-a-half pounder. (If I could give one piece of advice to you single ladies out there it would be to ask your guy how big he was at birth and what his head size was, just so you know what you’ll be pushing out your nethers. Maybe not first date material but definitely second or third. Definitely.) My biggest baby, son #2, was nearly 12 pounds – so large that when another dad stood next to my husband at the NICU window he said, “What’s your kid in there for? He eat all the other babies??” (Also, no one has ever called my boys fat even though they were really big. Because it’s “good” for boys to be “big and strong” but apparently not so for girls?)

So it was no surprise to anyone that Jelly Bean – my smallest baby, incidentally – came into this world in the 85th percentile for weight and height. And other than a slight hiccup during her first year she’s stayed at the top of her range. Her pediatrician has always told us not to worry about it, that as long as her height and weight stay proportional (which they have) then she’s perfectly healthy. As for chubby, I dare say most three-year-olds are sporting a fair amount of developmentally appropriate baby chub. The Other Mommy had wandered away by this point but I felt tears coming to my eyes. All I wanted to do was run after her and shake her. How dare you judge a pre-schooler? All I wanted to do was run after Jelly Bean and tickle her soft little tummy just to remind myself that she is happy and healthy and safe. All I wanted to do was sit and cry.

[It’s at this point in the narrative that I really really wanted to insert cute pictures of Jelly Bean to show you how “not fat” she is and so you could all reassure me. But then I realized that what Jelly Bean actually looks like is beside the point. Whether or not she’s overweight is not the point. Whether or not her dimpled elbows are “cute” or “chubby” is not the point. She’s perfect, absolutely perfect, the way she is and her weight or size has nothing to do with that. Although if you want to see a pic that shows her hilarious personality, this one makes me laugh every time.]

So who cares if she’s not “a little peanut”? As long as she’s healthy – and oh she is! – then why should I worry about another mom making a stupid comparison? Because I know how cruel the world can be to people that don’t fit its strict standards. I know what being labelled as fat does to a little girl’s self image. Because I remember, vividly, the suffering I made myself endure as a child as punishment for being “fat.” My eating disorder started in full force at age 12, when an ill-advised middle school teacher made us keep a food journal and then critiqued everything I put in my mouth, but it really began years before that. In my journal at age 8, I wrote about doing “100 crunches, 100 leg lifts, every night, no excuses” and telling my friends that I hated chocolate when I actually loved it but was terrified of the fat in it. At 11 I wrote about attending a friend’s birthday party and peeling all the cheese off my pizza, cutting off the crust and then mopping the soggy remainder with a napkin to get rid of any residual oil before I’d eat it. In fact, I’ve been some kind of disordered for so long that that is what feels “normal” to me!

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I do not want that for Jelly Bean.  I, as her mother, will not let that happen to her. 

Of course, willing something hard enough does not make it happen. So when I got an e-mail from lovely reader T, it really hit home. She writes,

“How do you raise a confident, secure daughter in a world obsessed with body imagine and appearances in general, especially knowing that she carries your genes which, presumably, predispose her to many of the same emotional issue you have/had?  I have two boys (4 and 2) and now a 6-month-old daughter, and I’m already having anxiety about her emotional health. I know this is not a quick answer, but I wanted to pose the question to you in the hopes that you might post about this someday.”

The thing is, I’ve been so focused these past few years since Jelly Bean has been born on myself – on fixing the last few ED’d quirks that pop up so that I won’t pass them on to her – that I haven’t given much thought to what I need to do to inoculate her against this even more toxic environment. Especially since she does likely carry my genetic predisposition for perfectionism and food issues. (Man, my heart hurts just writing that.)  But I need to come up with a plan because that woman in the park will not be the last person to comment on her weight or size or looks. Thankfully Jelly Bean didn’t hear the conversation this time but I can’t shield her from all the Other Mommies and the media and my own issues forever. I can only try to make her stronger. (And let’s not forget my boys either – boys can get eating disorders too.)

As I thought about it, it turns out that I have been doing some positive things. It’s not a solid plan but it’s a start:

1. Not weighing myself. I can say with confidence that Jelly Bean has never seen me weigh myself. While I have stopped weighing myself every day (or multiple times a day), I still have a complicated relationship with the scale. It’s not that I think it would be bad for her to see me step on a scale but rather that I can’t do so without having an emotional reaction to the number and she would feel that no matter how I tried to hide it. And so I just don’t.

2. Talking about the good aspects of food rather than the bad. Rather than tell her I won’t buy her Cheetos because they’re “bad”, I try to reinforce the good properties of healthy food, like pointing out that grapes are tasty and have lots of antioxidants that help our bodies heal themselves. When she does choose to have a treat, I don’t tell her that ice cream “will make her fat” or whatever but rather that she should enjoy something so delicious. And I try to point out what it feels like to be sated and to stop eating then so your body won’t feel sick.

3. Not commenting on other people’s bodies. I don’t point out “fat” celebrities on magazines. I don’t talk about how “skinny” a friend has gotten. (I also don’t talk about how that man is bald or that lady has a mustache.) Which isn’t to say I never talk about that stuff – I wish I didn’t but I’m not perfect – I just try to not talk about it in front of her. I also try not to bring any of that in the house, either via TV or print, where she or the boys can see it.

4. Remind her that God made us to be so much more than our bodies. I know it sounds cheesy but it’s true: We were created for better than this and I believe every person has a spark of the divine in them. This light exists independent of any external covering. It’s what makes every person beautiful. I think this knowledge of every person’s innate goodness is the seed of self respect and self love.

5. Being a better model. Let’s face it: I’ll never be the perfect model about how to accept yourself. There are so many things ingrained in me that I don’t even realize I’m doing. For instance, recently I noticed Jelly Bean turning sideways and smoothing her stomach in the mirror, the way I do whenever I look in the mirror. Eek. But I can be better. I can show her that a step backward is not failure and a step forward – any step – is worth celebrating. I won’t hide the fact that I’ve had issues from her – I hope to have many developmentally appropriate talks about it as she grows up – but I can show her that people are not the sum of their worst parts. I can show her how much and how completely I love her. In the end, that may be the only thing I can really do. And even then I won’t be perfect. But I can show her that imperfect people are still worthy of all the love.

What do you guys think – am I overreacting to that other mom’s comments about Jelly Bean? What would you have said to her? What advice would give Reader T? How can I help Jelly Bean and my boys avoid the pitfalls I’ve kept falling in all my life?!

Updated to add: After thinking on this some more, I think part of why this incident is still bothering me is because of what it says about my own prejudices. I firmly believe that weight is not a moral judgement. It says nothing about your character, your talent or even, in some cases, your health. And yet I was still upset when I thought someone was calling my kid fat – meaning that clearly I haven’t made as much progress as I thought? 🙁

koala

 

44 Comments

  1. Alyssa (azusmom)

    I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. I’ve heard some pretty crazy comments directed at children, my own and others. Of course, it speaks volumes about a person who compares her toddler to others. That woman at the park is ridiculously insecure!
    My niece is 13 months old and wears clothes for 3-6months. She’ll never be the tallest kid around, but she’s healthy, happy, and hilarious. And beautiful!
    My own daughter is confident and opinionated. :). One of the blessings of autism is that she doesn’t give a fig what others think of her, and she doesn’t get the messages bombarded at her regarding her worth.
    I think you’re doing exactly what you need to do for your kids. They will follow what you do more closely than what you say (no pressure, lol!). And you’re creating a great example for them.
    I feel badly for the other woman’s daughter: Chances are she’ll grow up believing she’s only lovable if she’s thin.

  2. Because I love to be a smarta** and because these kinds of comments are why I don’t own a handgun, here are some of the many things I fantasize about replying to the smug mommy at the park.
    Her: What size…?
    Me: Why do you ask?
    Her: My V wears 24 mos…
    Me: Oh, she was a failure to thrive baby.
    [Vienna? Seriously? Or, did u make that up?]

    I’m sure I’ll think of more tomorrow.

    Love you, Chari.

  3. Because I love to be a smartypants and because these kinds of comments are why I don’t own a handgun, here are some of the many things I fantasize about replying to the smug mommy at the park.
    Her: What size…?
    Me: Why do you ask?
    Her: My V wears 24 mos…
    Me: Oh, she was a failure to thrive baby.
    [Vienna? Seriously? Or, did u make that up?]

    I’m sure I’ll think of more tomorrow.

    Love you, Chari.

  4. Because I love to be a smartypants and because these kinds of comments are why I don’t own a handgun, here are some of the things I fantasize about replying to the smug mommy at the park.
    Her: What size…?
    Me: Why do you ask?
    Her: My V wears 24 mos…
    Me: Oh, she was a failure to thrive baby.
    [Vienna? Seriously? Or, did u make that up?]

    I’m sure I’ll think of more tomorrow.

    Love you, Chari.

  5. I think Jelly Bean looks adorable and healthy. I, like Alyssa said, am more worried about that other mothers child.

    From what you’ve said what you’re doing sounds really good – much better than a lot of other kids have (Vienna included). I wish I’d had you as a mum 🙂

  6. I guess it’s a cultural difference, but in europe it’s a goodthing for your child to wear a bigger size then the age, girls included, mothers are proud to tell about this, even to exagerete

  7. I understand why it upset you, but I’ve found that it’s happier/nicer to try to give the person the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s just awkward at small talk and that was the best she could do (and it probably seemed culturally ok), maybe she’s worried/nervous about the size of her kid and overcompensated.

    I find it’s helpful to think of these things instead of dwelling on it as if the person intended an insult. It’s easy to get caught up in taking comments personally when someone probably didn’t intend it that way.

    I don’t have kids yet, but I am worried that if we have a girl in the future, it is so hard to navigate. Even when people say “nice” things like “you’re so beautiful” and “you’re such a good girl” it can mess you up and send the wrong message.

    • This! I wondered the same thing. She stuck her foot in her mouth was my first thought. I say, laugh it off and forget about it.

      Your daughter is adorable, happy and healthy. That is wonderful!

  8. Gosh, as a nonparent I sort of assumed that short of child-abuse scenarios, it would be totally off limits for parents to diss anyone’s kid or parenting style in any way. I figured all that stuff is supposed to be said behind the parent’s back, like other catty comments people make about each other. Wow, I really had no idea that this kind of thing is actually common. Ack!

    Jellybean is ADORABLE and I’m sure you convey that to her on every level possible.

  9. That woman sounds like the kind who doesn’t just put her kid in beauty pageants, but puts her on reality tv shows about beauty pageants before she can talk. And new her kid after weird mini hot dogs in cans. From what you said, it sounds like she was trying to maybe get a compliment out of you about her daughter, or just snidely one up you on her parenting skills, and didn’t get the reaction she was looking for.
    As far as jelly bean, I was always in the 90th or 95th percentile of girls growing up and it was because I was tall. I was never overweight, just tall, often much taller than my peers. That distinction will become more apparent by the time she reaches kindergarten, and as long as she’s at a healthy weight and active, she’s fine. I have no clue how to protect her self esteem though – other than to tell her that women who brag about their toddler’s size like that are creepy and to run before the woman starts trying to push her issues with her own life on jelly bean as well.

  10. I just have a minute–I wanted to share this post I read the other day: http://i.stuff.co.nz/life-style/wellbeing/8760102/When-your-mother-says-shes-fat

  11. I don’t think it would have phased me the same way it did you. My girl’s were both 9+ lb babies and top of the charts and have always topped the growth charts. I’m probably a little guilty of mommy bragging about their awesome largeness and always felt (inside- I would never never say this to anyone) that shrimpy babies just weren’t as rugged and fierce as my tomboys. I don’t talk about my size or my girls’ size unless asked. It just seems weird and kind of wrong.

    Jellybean is adorable and strong. And strong is good.

    -from another mom who has to buy her long torso-ed babies shirts and dresses that aren’t too short.

  12. People who compare really are trying to reassure themselves.

    I had small babies who turned into lean kids, and people commenting on how small a baby they were hurt as bad. I had some question the accuracy of my answer when I told them how old they were. Like I could possibly mistake my 6 month old for a 3 month old. Can’t we all think before we speak?

    I have 2 daughters and try to instill a healthy relationship with food and exercise and body image. It’s a challenge in this society. I don’t want them to think being obese is fine, since it’s so bad for your health, but I certainly don’t want them to obsess about their looks and weight either!

    I think my reaction would have been to focus on this:

    “Although frankly I’m just glad she’s wearing clothes as she’s been on kind of a naked kick lately”

    ’cause honestly, that’s what really counts, right? 🙂

  13. I tend to be like PP and assume the best in people–however as a mom, I totally know that feeling you get when someone messes with your kid. I was ready to take a kid (5 year old) down if he pushed over my little girl again. So…yeah. Moms can be a bit crazy.

    I have three girls (and one boy). My girls are 6, 4, and 10 mos. my 4 and 6 year old wear the same size dresses and shirts (the 4 yar old wears size 6 tops and 3 bottoms–and did as a 3 year old). I haven’t ever worried and I think it is awesome that she is so tall. It is interesting having girls the same height and seein how clothes fit completely differently.

    Here is another blog post I like related to this topic: http://www.stevewiens.com/2013/03/06/these-are-the-lines-of-a-story/

  14. (Disclaimer: I am not a parent. I don’t even play one on TV.)

    In my opinion, you did overreact just a little. What she said was clearly inappropriate, but you seem to really let it get to you. Mothers are expected to, and do, take on an insane amount of responsibility for how their children turn out, above and beyond what is even possible for them to influence very much. That this has bothered you so much and that you have taken on so much of it speaks to me that there’s some letting go for you to do here. I say that not to slam you but in a loving way since you asked for feedback. And it’s just one opinion. But as a bystander in the “mommy wars,” I often see well-intentioned and concientious moms take on far too much, and I wish that you could be free of this and let it roll.

    Looking at your list of what you are doing, I think you have some great ideas! The one thing which struck me as perhaps missing were any actions that could help her appreciate her body for just how it is. I read recently some comments by 4 and 5 year olds about what they liked about their bodies (wish I could find it to share, but, alas…). The answers were all about things their bodies could DO. These kids loved that they could run and jump, and that their eyes let them see and learn and they had hands that could draw. Jelly Bean’s body is WONDERFUL just as it is, because it allows her to do all the things she likes to do, and reinforcing this positive message may help buffer her against all the negative ones that are sure to follow. Isn’t it great to be so big and strong?

    Just my thoughts, hope they help. Know that just by thinking deeply about this stuff and being willing to examine yourself, it means you’re doing a great job. 🙂

    • I don’t see it as an overreaction, but I do agree about emphasizing all of the positive things girls’ (and boys’, but that’s not the issue here) bodies can do. I don’t have a daughter but I really enjoy watching the girls in my son’s karate class — it’s a fairly advanced class and I see girls that have been doing karate since the age of 4 or 5, and who take it for granted that they are strong and that they can spar with any kid in the class. I wish I had done something like that as a kid; I think it would have gone a long way to counteract some of the more common cultural messages about what is valuable about girls/women’s bodies.

  15. I think the comment would have upset me too. And not necessarily because of any weight prejudices. I think you would have been just as upset if it’d been a comment comparing your daughter’s hair colors, favorably and unfavorably. Maybe there are some ingrained prejudices in there but it seems to me like more of an anger that children get this horrible “only thing that matters is how you look” message way too young. And that makes me angry too.

    Although I don’t have kids yet I worry about how not to pass on my baggage anymore than I already will genetically. I think you’re on the right track though, especially with #5. My parents were amazing about my own body and I never got that message that I needed to change but I watched my mom alternatively diet and over-indulge my entire childhood. So when I became diet-obsessed that seemed normal to me. I think you can preach all the right words but if you don’t practice them yourself then kids see that.

    I will just say, I feel for Jelly Bean! As someone who was always off the top of the height/weight charts and was 5’9″ at 11 years old, it’s not the easiest thing. I towered above all my friends until they discovered heels and I felt super awkward until I discovered the brands that make their pants in longs. Even when I was severely underweight I didn’t wear the smallest sizes in clothes because I’m just not built that way. But it gets easier. I’m finally in my late 20’s starting to feel okay with the fact that I’ll never be “delicate” or “petite”, whatever these things actually mean. Being built this way let me get a dropped-waist wedding dress that I loved that would have overwhelmed someone smaller! I think Jelly Bean is super lucky to have you as a mom and that she’ll be okay.

  16. By the time I was maybe three or four, I was HUGE. Not really just fat– although I was chubby, certainly, and a lot more so than the beanpoles that I saw all around all the time (which I noticed)— but also tall. I was enormous. By first grade I was taller than my first grade teacher and weighed a good 50 pounds more than the little waif girls in class all around me. My parents took me to special doctors to make sure I wasn’t going to turn into one of those giant people who die really young from heart failure aka Andre the Giant.
    I remember going to a doctor’s appointment and the doctor looking at me and saying, “She’s off the charts. We literally have no numbers to compare her to. Look, here’s the curve, and she’s so far above it that I can’t give her a percentile.” This was made clear that it was an abnormality, rather than something to be proud of. I remember feeling shame for my body then for the first time, although I’d already felt like some kind of strange creature for ages when surrounded by my peers.
    My mother doesn’t remember this, but I do, which says that kids pick up on a lot more about body criticism than we expect. Do your best to reinforce the best parts of your daughter. She does not deserve to live the childhood I had, put on diets for my weight, ostracized for my height, always out of place.

  17. A bit off subject, but the “Justin Timberlog” comment made me think of a funny conversation I had with my mom where she told me she had to turn off the movie The Social Network half way through because that “Mark Wahlberg” guy was such a jerk.

    Let it roll off your shoulders and save it for your crazy playground mom book. Her comment says way more about her than Jellybean.

  18. My niece was such a large child that people thought there was something wrong with her since she looked like a 6 year old when she was 3 and therefore talked like a 3 year old. Well not to worry everything turned out fine and she is a very attractive successful woman now who appears to have very few hang-ups.

  19. I think your reaction was natural–we all want to defend our kids. It’s not just girls that have a hard time. My son was nearly 10 lbs at birth and was always in the highest percentile on the growth charts. When he was about 9 or 10, he started to become very self-conscious about his size (he was never really overweight, but was kind of chubby)–not helped by his grandmother who told him that he was “well-padded.” I’m overweight (I’m also strong and I compete in kettlebell sport competitions), but my son has never seen me weigh myself and I never discuss it with him. I try to emphasize good, whole foods and exercise, especially cycling, which we both enjoy. I explained to him that when he became a teenager, he was going to have a growth spurt and, sure enough, he’s now a tall, slender, strong 15-year-old. We all want what’s best for our kids, but I think the best thing we can do for them is to give them coping strategies to survive the stupid, cruel people that will inevitably cross their paths.

  20. The reader email about how to raise a healthy daughter who carries your traits sums up a fear I’ve had for awhile. I used to want to have a bunch of kids, and mostly girls. But after years of struggling with feeling unloveable because of my physical appearance, I am no longer sure I want daughters. Even though I’ve made some breakthroughs and am a bit more realistic/objective about my body/self worth, it would be so painful to watch a daughter go through the self loathing that I went through because of traits that I passed on to her. Fortunately I’m years away from having kids, so I have some time to keep working on my own issues and hopefully learn how to instill better self esteem in someone than I had.

  21. I ALWAYS answer that size question the same way. “Umm. I’m not sure. I’ll have to check before I go shopping next. Thanks for the reminder!”

    Unless it’s a good friend who’s asking the question, that’s my stock answer. Of course, it’s usually the truth, too…

    And no, you’re not overreacting. You were judged harshly, and you were put down for having — and VALUING — a healthy child. That other mom’s got the issues, not you, babe.

    Don’t make her crap yours. It’s hers, and it’s not worth sharing her burden. Not this time, anyway. When Floopsie falls off a swing and breaks a bone ’cause she wasn’t strong enough to stay on or had the bone density to withstand a tumble, then you can feel bad. Not because Floopsie is so small, but because Mom values skinny instead of the muscles that would let Floopsie be someone a lot cooler than Flooopsie, yaknowwhatI’msayin’? 😉

    Hang in there.

  22. I had my daughter when several of my friends had their first kids, and she quickly became bigger than the preemie babies my friends had. I was so happy to have a baby who had no trouble gaining weight and loved that she had lots of good baby chub. I was sure I preferred having a bigger baby, until I had my second daughter 2 years later, and she was the peanut the woman at the park described. I adored how bitty she was, the same way I loved how chubby her sister was. Meaning, we all love our children’s unique and wonderful features, no matter what they are. My kids are very different but like all parents I treasure what makes them the people they are. I suspect the woman at the park was expressing how much she loves her daughter’s petite-ness because it’s one of her daughter’s unique features.

    My girls are 12 & 10 now and are tall for their age and continue to be built differently. I figure as long as they eat plenty of healthy food, they will grow in the way God meant them to be. Your reminders about how to maintain a healthy relationship with food are spot on. Jelly Bean will no doubt flourish and be healthy under your parenting.

  23. Love this quote from enjoyingthesmallthings cause it’s SO true and sometimes I have to remind myself of it. “I think most of our “I bet they think they’re better than me” assumptions have nothing to do with them and everything to do with us. And no one can make us feel crappy about the way we parent, what we eat, how we tend to our marriage, where we shop, how we spend our money or what kind of person we are–no one but ourselves. “

  24. I don’t think you are over-reacting at all!!! What if your little JellyBean had overheard the woman?
    Even though I have boys, we work hard on just focusing on having strong healthy bodies – not necessarily skinny ones. My youngest had a pretty big belly for a couple of years but this last year he shot up about 6 inches and (like I knew it would) the belly is not big at all now. However, because some kids made fun of him – he still thinks it is big and always wears a rash guard to swim.

  25. I’m sorry that someone said that about Jelly Bean. Criticism is hard to take but especially when its directed at your child! And being a mom herself, you’d think that she’d know that every child grows differently. I think she sounds like a snob!

    Just today I was at the park with the child I nanny for and a totally random dude decided to tell me I had some meaty thighs. I wasn’t upset or offended, just incredulous that somone would say that to a complete stranger…to a woman, no less! I just shot him a look and said, “I Crossfit” and walked away. I’m proud of my muscle, you d*ck. 🙂

  26. Charlotte, you’ve struck a balance with your kids. They are a joy and beautiful and bright. These judgy types drive me nuts. I am disappointed that Cherrios are not a good choice though! They make such lovely necklaces:)

  27. Being so self-aware is a huge first step, in my opinion. I have a friend who hates her post-IVF, post-birthing 2 babies body and is always trying the latest fad to lose weight (including HCG). She has two beautiful daughters and I cringed when we were at their house once and she commented on her 2 year-old’s chubby thighs, ruefully noting that the toddler has her [the mom’s] thighs, with a sour expression on her face. I kind of wanted to smack her. No, she’s 2! She has adorable squeezable chubby toddler thighs, and right now she’s running around playing and so far doesn’t have any body hang-ups. It hurts my heart to think that this beautiful little girl will ever learn from her mom that her thighs aren’t perfect, chubby or not. I don’t think my friend even recognizes that she’s doing this. She adores her daughters and would never want to hurt them, but I think she’s truly oblivious to the damage she could cause to her daughter’s self-esteem with comments like that.

    The fact that you can see your own issues and know that you want to protect Jelly Bean as much as you can is going to go far.

  28. I can see why it bothered you though it does seem a little bit overreaction. It sounds like there was a large element of awkward small talk on her part, and ‘chubby’ is only a negative if we see it as one. I’ve seen some of the pics, and she’s quite a cutie.

  29. You are an incredible mother and all of your kids are lucky to have you. Thanks for your thoughts on what we can do to hopefully prevent disordered eating and body image issues in our daughters I think they are spot on! I tend to feel more protective and defensive of my daughters size than my sons. And shes no “peanut” either.

  30. I’m so sorry that woman upset you. I had a simular experience with my sister in law a couple of weeks ago and it just made me so sad (and honestly shocked me, I couldn’t believe anyone would even think to compare little girls bodies, maybe that’s what got you? the shock factor?). I hope we can create an environment where our daughters are celebrated for what their minds and bodies can do rather than what they look like, I think the first step it to show them how to do that by celebrating our own minds and bodies. You should be proud of yourself for all the work you’ve done to help that sweetest baby love and accept herself.

  31. I always choose to give people the benefit of doubt (years with my husband has worn off on me); and I have been trained from childhood to never ask any potentially troubling or embarrassing questions (therefore I am nearly a mute with all but my very closest friends). If I had a daughter to raise, I would want her to to ask any question that she has, please don’t be afraid. I have crooked teeth. Sometimes people ask me about them. Even up to a few years ago this upset me and made me feel bad. At some point I had to realize that my crooked teeth are noticeable and even if someone means harm to me by bringing them up, the questions are only insulting if I choose for them to be.

    There is no reason to feel embarrassed/uncomfortable that someone asks you about your daughter’s size. She is her size, and that is just perfect for her. Has anyone asked you about the size of your boys? Did you look at it as a compliment? I’m not saying that there is not weird judgement out there, but we have to do our best not to internalize judgement towards our own kids. Maybe she was just asking about size because her kid has trouble growing (my boys have always lingered on the lower end of the height/weight charts and I have felt guilty about the genetic gift of efficient size that we endowed upon the three of them).

    Maybe she has a complete irrational fear of strong looking kids, favoring a wan waif-like appearance; or maybe she was trying to make small-talk and is badly out of practice. Maybe (if you believe in the bigger picture) you were asked to learn more about yourself or to help her learn that all little girls are just right just the way they are. Whichever way, please don’t take stuff like this to heart. (When people are rude or off-putting I usually walk away thinking, “Go now in peace, go now in peace, may the spirit of love surround you.” I often sing it in the car to dangerous, aggressive drivers. My kids laugh and say that I really mean, “go now in pieces.” Maybe sometimes, but I have consciously decided on the message that serves me best.

    Love your honest writing. Much love to your awesome jellybean!

  32. I don’t think you’re overreacting. I deal with the same things with my daughter. She’s always been at the top of the pediatrician’s charts for height and toward the top for weight, but she’s not fat. We usually had to buy her clothes sizes bigger than her age (in the toddler section) unless we were at Children’s Place. A lot of the girls in her class at school seem to be these dainty little things, and that’s just not my child. I was always bigger too- although never overweight (until now), which led to all kinds of body image issues. I don’t want that for my daughter, but am concerned about it due to all of the pressure girls are dealing with these days and the fact she is bigger than most girls her age.

  33. What an interesting and thoughtful post, Charlotte. I don’t think you overreacted to Other Mommy at all, even if she didn’t mean anything hurtful by what she said. I have found that many of the most deleterious comments are unintentional – the slip of a tongue or a casual, off-hand remark can be scarring for years to come. Being caught off guard by such a comment about a preschooler is a totally normal reaction for a mom, especially one who has been on the receiving end of those harmful comments before.

    I won’t be having children for quite a few years (at least I don’t plan to!), but occasionally it crosses my mind that it will be incredibly difficult to raise a child who can stay strong in the face of so much social/media body pressure. My parents never really talked about weight when I was growing up, and yet somehow I have been dealing with an eating disorder for all of my adult life. I think the steps you laid out for making sure Jelly Bean grows up with a healthy body image are great. It’s so admirable that you are going into this with the conscious aim of protecting her from poison that is body image issues, because once that poison is in your system, it unfortunately tends to stay there and grow roots. You do what you can, and pray that the rest will be taken care of!

    Iris @ Anatomy & Intuition

  34. I love your “positive things” list in this post, and do much the same things with my kids. My 4 year old daughter is also “solid” and wears clothing 2-3 sizes higher than her age (same deal with the torso! I hate the prosti-tot clothing). Other moms have made similar comments about her as Vienna’s mom made about JB, and I never took offense! It never even occurred to me to be offended, honestly. I’d probably assume she was just trying to make conversation or something. My hope (and maybe misguided? belief) is that my kids’ self-esteem and self-worth will come from what my husband and I instill in them, not what some random stranger may or may not be thinking about them. My 4 y.o. daughter goes around flexing her muscles, bragging about how strong she is and how fast she can run. We focus on what our bodies can DO, not so much how they look. It makes me proud to hear her talk like that. Kid comparison competitions are so unproductive.

  35. Hey Charlotte a little more self confidence please. I think that people who comment in that way are the one’s with the problem – it is sort of self justification. Really for small talk say something nice or don’t say anything.

    My youngest was 12 pounds at birth – 10 days overdue – (a few years ago now but hard to forget! I t was summer) so naturally in the weight stakes he was right up there – so what.

    If we feed our children nutritious food and ensure they get some exercise nature ( as in genes etc.) will be in charge.

    I have to say though, obesity upsets me. Of course I keep my mouth shut, but being a life sciences scientist I know the problems, both mental and physical, of this condition. Obesity is not a natural phenomena, you can’t get fat on the view, and it’s close cousin diabetes could be more troublesome for this country than a severe financial recession.

  36. My daughter was a very big baby and people used to stop me on the street and ask what I was feeding her. I had a terrible complex about it until she started walking and then looked “normal,” although she’s in the 75th percentile for height and weight. I have an ED history, too, and I have always watched her closely for odd eating habits. That said, part of me dealing with my own anxiety is to constantly reframe and disregard and really choose what I listen to. If I were in your shoes, I would force myself to not think about the comment any more because it won’t do anyone any good and will only spiral you deeper into a whole mess of things that it sounds like aren’t happening, you know? And I say that as someone who thinks just like you do, not judging at all.

  37. One thing that has helped me a lot in the ways I am like my mom is the fact that my mom is pretty honest about her issues and always has been. There was never anything I couldn’t talk to her about and while sometimes it’s annoying to say, “ugh I am turning into my mother!” it DOES make me feel less alone or weird to know someone I love and admire had similar struggles. She never made me feel like she was perfect, so I didn’t feel a lot of pressure (at least certainly not from her) to be perfect myself.

    I think there is kind of no such thing as an emotional overreaction. While you can and should do your best to control your responses both internal and external, the initial reaction is exactly how the situation made you feel and there is nothing wrong with that.

    Also I think you are already setting a great example to Jelly Bean. 🙂

  38. It is really disappointing that people have to say such things. It obviously set you alarm bells going straight away and from my experience it is that gut feeling that is usually correct even though she did back peddle. I suppose it is how we react that is important and you have had plenty of positive comments here. It’s hard as a mum to not let it “get to you” – we are wired that way biologically.

  39. My preemie daughter was a chunk-a-monk when she was about 2 and then she grew into her very thin birthmother/father’s physique. My son was 32 pounds when we adopted him at 10 months. He stayed that weight for the next year and I grew some nice biceps. He has thinned out so much my best friend says he is malnourished. I sheepishly admit I am grateful they are both thin because I know the pain being the chubby kid(who developed an ED as a teen) brings and I wouldn’t want to try and navigate that with my children…although my son started saying he was fat this year and it kinda.freaked.me.out. I try to show them eating healthy and exercising is for everyone because society tells us it is only for the overweight…but it is hard. I know I would be more diligent about it if weight was a problem…I hate that about my parenting.

  40. My family has a history of eating disorders. My grandmother passed a push for thinness to the women in my family that is more than a little unhealthy. My mother gave up on dieting after hearing my preschool age self learn to look in the mirror and ask if I was fat. She did her best to make me appreciate that strength is just as great as beauty in a woman and not to pass on the eating problems. In high school I was anorexic and underweight for about a year when dealing with some major issues, but in adulthood I’ve learned to like my big booty and am above average accepting of myself. I passed through overweight in college before addressing the love of sweets from other side of my family. The point of this drawn out story is that my parents worked hard throughout to teach me to love myself, appreciate the beauty of my body for what it could do, and help me learn to take care of myself and once I got into adulthood and out of the scary teen years it made a big difference.

    Jelly bean will learn from your struggle to love your body as it is to try to do the same. She will have challenges like all of us and you can’t prevent that, but by you and your husband doing your best to honor women not just for tininess, she can learn the same.

  41. I don’t think you’re overreacting– but I also like what others have said about giving the other mom a bit of leeway to have been socially awkward. I love the things you’re doing to raise a healthy daughter (and healthy sons, too; they would be adversely affected, also). My only quibble is I prefer not to demonize our culture/world. I don’t think it helps to have that attitude (spoken or not) when we’re raising children. I don’t see the “culture” (whatever that is– it’s so amorphous) as actively trying to destroy self-esteem in our daughters. I’m not in denial, I am well aware there are lots of uneducated, greedy people, marketing campaigns, forces, and corporations, but I don’t feel there is a plot to hurt me, as a woman, or my daughters, and I find that kind of overgeneralized scare-tactic language a bit off-putting.

  42. Why do you even have a scale? Are you a jockey, a wrestler or something like that? What sort of useful information do you think the device gives you? Your value as ballast? For the average person knowing their weight is about the most useless thing they could know, especially given that most of them don’t even know what the number means.

    If you can’t bring yourself to get rid of the stupid thing at least put it out in the garage at the bottom of a pile of other mostly useless junk.

    Then make sure your kids have some useful skills and information, like basic biology, physiology and how to ride a bicycle . . . to GET somewhere (riding a bicycle to “burn calories” makes no more sense than driving a car to burn gas. Being able to move for hours on end WITHOUT burning many calories, now THAT is a truely useful thing to be able to do). Then the rest will come pretty close to taking care of itself as side effect of the actually important stuff.