Several weeks ago the kids were playing with the Wii balance board. Alan weighed himself. Isabelle weighed herself. And even Nathan. So, I hopped on too. And…
I’M NORMAL! It’s just a tad into the normal but it’s normal!
Yes, I was quite excited to be normal. And, yes, the Wii considers Alan and Isabelle overweight. I’m not too sure about Isabelle since her height is off. She’s grown and we haven’t updated her profile. I don’t really know how accurate the Wii is period. It’s probably way wrong but who knew that would make me so silly jump for joy happy.
This post is giving me an excuse to share some old pictures of me. I took them almost a year ago at my dad’s. They were hanging on the wall and I thought it’d be fun to share them on here. And well…almost a year later, here they are.
So yeah, what was I saying? Oh…my mom and my weight. Not just my weight. My hair. Everything. Anything. Something. It’s always something. Sometimes I wonder how she could have even been surprised when in high school I asked to go to a fat camp.
Yep. That’s me and Alan in high school. Awww look how young we were. And no, I wasn’t fat. Just your regular normal self conscious teenager. Thinking back I question myself, wondering if I took things overly personal. Or maybe I was focusing on the negative.
But I think comments like, “you’d be prettier if you weren’t fat” aren’t real confidence builders. Hey maybe I should have concentrated on the mom thought I was pretty and could be even prettier. No. That’s not right, I don’t think I was being sensitive.
I know she probably wanted what was best for me but I don’t think that was the right way to go about it. And it still isn’t. Making me feel like crap isn’t going to motivate me to do what someone else wants. Maybe that works for some people but not for me. I don’t know what the right way is. But I know what I don’t want to do with Isabelle.
In our world where the media pushes young, beautiful, and skinny I really hope that as Isabelle grows, I will instill confidence in her. I hope she will love herself for who she is. I hope that she knows I love her. And mostly I hope that she’ll be happy. I don’t ever want her to feel, mom makes me feel like crap about myself.
I think we’re headed in the right direction. I let Isabelle know I love her and I try to show her that I love myself.
Sorry this post meandered of into the depressing and sappy. What was I originally planning to write about? Oh yes, how did I get myself into the “normal”? And the answer? I don’t know. I haven’t done anything different. It just happened. Maybe the breastfeeding? And the “normal”? My weight fluctuates and it’s so close to overweight that I’m positive I’m back over the line now.
So much for normal.