Mirror Mirror on the Wall

I have struggled with my weight and body image my entire life. When I was in highschool I thought I was the hugest person alive. I was very active- I figure skated, played rugby, soccer, baseball, basketball, volleyball, and tennis- but I was disgusted with my body. I felt like no matter what I did I was never good enough. My controlling and obsessive nature, and dissatisfaction with my body, combined with some life events created the perfect combination for an eating disorder. I felt like I was losing control of my surroundings, but the one thing I COULD control was what went in and out of my body. I found it disgustingly satisfying to pretend to eat healthy, but actually starve myself daily, and stuff my face with huge binges every once in a while, followed by a purge.

I don’t know if many people knew I was bulimic…it took a long time before I confessed it to anyone and to this day have only spoken about it out loud to 3 people. The day I spoke the dirty truth to my then boyfriend I realized that my façade of control was actually me being more out of control than I could ever imagine. I knew I needed help. I needed to tell SOMEONE what I had been doing, because if I said it out loud I would have to stop.

It was SO HARD to stop binging and purging. After years of feeling like I had control (which obviously I didn’t), I felt like I had to completely let go of my preoccupation with weight, and recreate a new relationship with food. I just allowed myself to eat…and not worry about anything. Of course after starving my body for so long, it grabbed hold of everything I gave it, and I ballooned to obesity. It sucked, but I felt like even though it was unhealthy for me to be so overweight, it was better than throwing up daily.

After about a year of trying to get through each day one at a time without binging and purging, I decided that I could try and take my health back into my own hands and diet in a way that would hopefully bring me back to a healthy weight safely.  I joined Weight Watchers and tried to retrain my body and teach myself how to eat to be healthy. It’s like the part of my brain that was supposed to tell me that I was hungry or full was broken and I needed to fix it. 

I’ve struggled because I felt like it didn’t matter HOW HARD I would try, I would never be the size I wanted to be. I would get frustrated because I would see how other people would eat, and I would know that I was being SO CAREFUL with my diet and exercise…yet I was still the overweight one. It didn’t seem fair to me. Even though I wasn’t doing unhealthy things to my body, I felt like my mind was toxic. I couldn’t stop wanting to be like other people. I wanted their bodies. I hated my own. These days I try really hard to focus on not comparing myself to other people, and concentrate more on being the best version of myself that I can be.

Since then I have basically tried to be healthy and fit, without letting myself slip over to the “other side”. Being pregnant and gaining 50-60 pounds with each pregnancy has been extremely hard for me. Even while not pregnant eating the appropriate  amount of food is something I struggle with. I find it challenging to just be ” normal” and have balance: not obsessing about it, but making healthy choices. I don’t like having chips, cookies or Nutella in the house because it’s still hard for me to stop at just one bite. I find  using My Fitness Pal a helpful tool to keep my eating in check.  If something really stressful happens, or I just feel out of control I get the urge again. I make a point of talking to Ian about what I’m thinking/feeling because I’m so afraid of starting up again. I think it’s like being an alcoholic. No matter how long it goes without having a binge/purge event, it only takes one time to start the vicious cycle up again.

Now that I’m a mom I want more than ever to just be BETTER. I want to be a healthy positive role model to them. It’s actually very therapeutic to try and have the outlook towards yourself that you want your children to have. A good lesson in self-love. I am constantly telling them how great they are, but I’m also trying to show that I’m pretty great too. Yes I still want to be smaller. Yes, it’s still frustrating to me that I’m as big as I am when I exercise and eat as well as I do….but I never EVER show them that side of myself. I have never used the words “diet”, “fat” or “skinny” in front of them.

In our home we talk about exercising to be strong and healthy. We talk about food as a way to feed our minds and bodies so that we can learn more and have the energy and strength to do the activities we want to. We talk about how everybody is different and beautiful, and if everyone looked the same the world would be a very boring place.

I am hyper aware of the example I am setting to the kids. The way I talk about my body now is how I want them to think about themselves. It’s a vessel, and it’s perfect in its own way. When they ask about my stretch marks and flabby tummy I don’t make a big deal about it (even though I cry a little on the inside). I explain to them that my body has been all different sizes, and growing babies inside your tummy is a magical and wonderful thing that transforms your body- even after the baby is on the outside.

Last week Harleigh said the dreaded words “I’m fat” and I panicked. It was relatively innocent, as she was talking about the fact that her dress was bunched up inside her snowpants making it bulky, but I found the whole thing so upsetting. I worry so much that my kids will grow up having the same preoccupations their mommy had.

I have no idea where those ugly words even came from, but I guess no matter how much we try to protect and build up our children we can’t control what they see and hear when they aren’t with us. I’ll just hope that as parents we have done a good enough job teaching them about the importance of healthy bodies, and helped them build strong self-esteem and positive body images. I hope that when they look in the mirror they see themselves the way I see them: beautiful.

Pitching a Tent

This week is one of the weeks I look forward to all year long. As a teacher, the break from work is always something glorious. As a mama, the idea of not having to  worry about being on time for an entire week is AMAZING. Having Ian home for the week is the cherry ontop of the March Break sundae.

Many of our friends have been lucky enough to spend this time elsewhere. In lands far away from here, where the sun is hot, the drinks are cold, and the beach is relaxing. Someday we will be able to live that dream, but until that day we will make the most of our time at home, in the never-ending winter.

Last night we (read: I) had the brainwave to have a camping trip in the basement. We set up the tent, and the excitement built from that moment on. Harleigh decided that we should do “stations” to celebrate our family night’o fun. She thought the first station should be “makeup”. That should have been the first clue that the evening wouldn’t go smoothly.

Being the fun mom (ie: sucker) that I am, I went along with the idea. I got the “play makeup” out from lock and key (you’ll see why this stuff needs to be protected in a moment), and let them create. Oh boy, their faces (and arms, and hands, and stomachs) were blank slates but for mere seconds before they all became works of art.

 

This occupied and entertained them for a good half an hour. They had a blast, and honestly thought they looked great. This obviously leads me to believe one thing: I need to set a better example with my makeup. The mess was atrocious. The glitter and lipstick were SO HARD to get off their faces. We used baby oil to “gently” scrub it off, but there was no “gentle” about it. Eventually they were somewhat clean, and our night continued.

Station #2 was Maisie’s choice. She chose dance party, which is a fan favourite in this house. Strobe lights and speakers were setup, and we got down to business. Even sully enjoyed this event. We set him up in his jumperoo and he was bouncing around to the music with the rest of us. The kids are all pretty smooth on the dance floor (they get that from their daddy), and loved showing off their own personal moves. It was a lot of fun, and very minimal mess to clean up which made it my personal front-runner.

 

After warming up the basement with our sweaty bodies, we cooled things down with station #3: board games. The kids love playing games, and sometimes they can even agree on which game to play together, which makes things much more enjoyable. Truthfully, they are usually great: usually following rules, taking turns, and having fun. Lastnight we played dominos and  The Cat in the Hat’s I can do That, which is a game that everyone can play involving a “trick-a-ma-stick”, mom’s dress, a fish in a bowl and more. I really like this game because it’s a fun and active game, involving (but not requiring) reading and boosting confidence when the kids shout out “I can do that!” everytime they are given a silly challenge.

The final station of the night was the big one: movie night. We pigged out on snacks and snuggled on the couch. It was a tight fit with all six of us, but the other couch was buried by the tent, so we made it work. Choosing the movie is always exciting. Ian and I try to encourage a movie that  A) we want to see,  B) will entertain all three kids, and C) not give them nightmares. Things didn’t go our way last night. They chose Scooby-Doo, which was almost the most painful part of the evening. If you have seen the animated movies, you’ll agree that they aren’t completely terrible, but watching Freddie-Prinze Jr.and Matthew Lillard on the not-so-big screen is something I’d rather not do again anytime soon. Luckily, the snacks were good!

Finally, the event we had all been waiting for had arrived. It was time to “go to sleep in the tent”. I’d like to preface this by saying that I have “slept” in a tent with the kids before, so I was not under any illusion that this would go smoothly. The fact that it was just me, with the three biggest littles as Ian had Sullivan upstairs definitely didn’t make me any less doubtful that the night would involve actual sleeping in the tent.

Everyone was very enthusiastic about camping, and all three of them were very vocal with their excitement to “sleep” in the tent. Maisie especially, kept repeating herself over and over again “we are sleeping in the tent! we are sleeping in the basement!”. I didn’t have the heart to explain to her that we weren’t actually sleeping, and that falling asleep was highly unlikely with her jumping around the tent singing her sleeping in the tent song.

I expected it to be a late night, and I knew it had the potential to be disastrous, but I was hopeful that at least one- maybe even two- kids would actually spend the night in the tent. We did our best to encourage sleeping. The tent itself is ginormous, allowing each child their own personal little area. They each had piles of pillows, loads of warm blankets, and plenty of space to be comfortable. The diffuser was radiating a soft sleepy glow, exuding “peace and calming” essential oil- which usually helps them unwind and calm down- but lastnight it was futile.

They each had to change locations in the tent at least 3 times : “I want to be beside Miles”, “I need to snuggle with Mommy”, “I can’t sleep so close to the edge of the tent”. You get the gist of it. Of course they all had to empty their bladders multiple times, and also needed to refill their waters with “fresh water” because we all know we can’t have stale water in our bedtime bottle (it was at that point that I was really wishing I had something FRESH in my bottle as well, as I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the night without the liquid courage).

After about an hour and a half of attempting to settle down and fall asleep it occurred to me that I was fighting a losing battle. I decided to stop trying to get them to fall asleep, and I joined in the madness. We sang songs, and told stories, and finally Maisie surrendered, got up and walked up the stairs to her own quiet, comfortable room. Although she was still getting much less sleep than a typical night, she ended up relatively rested. She is obviously the most responsible person in our family.

It wasn’t long after this point that I started to realize just how late it was. It was after 10:00PM. For many families staying up late isn’t a big deal. We are not those families. Our kids are asleep by 7:30 almost every single night of the year. Even on Christmas Eve we try to have them in bed not long after that time. I don’t know how  other people can handle the repercussions of a late night! To us, the cranky, over-tired, disagreeable, whiny wild animals that replace our (for the most part) lovely children really make it a no-brainer. They need their sleep!

 

Miles is especially dependent on a good night’s sleep. He is quite unbearable when he is tired. It didn’t take much more time to pass for him to self-destruct. Lots of tears flowed from his eyes, landing directly on the pillow in his bed- which is where he ended up spending the rest of his night. I went so far as to tricking him into sleeping in later than usual by changing his Gro-clock , which he relies upon to tell him when he is allowed to get out of bed in the morning.

In the end, the only original member of team tent to remain was Harleigh. She defied all odds and slept the entire night with her newly acquired sleep over buddy: Ian. I opted to take over the Sully feedings scattered throughout the night, but in doing so got to enjoy the choppy sleep from the comfort of my own bed.

Maybe you’re wondering how today has gone. Perhaps you’re curious if there were meltdowns and tears, fights and unkind words…well, let’s just say  that although camping in the basement, and all that it entails created many wonderful memories….today has reminded us why we have early bedtime in our home. Needless to say, everyone was asleep by 7:00 tonight.