Internalized Fatphobia

     Let me set the scene.... you're scrolling aimlessly through tik toc and you see a plus sized woman, a beautiful plus sized woman and her whole video is about body positivity. You know, you're more than your weight, your size doesn't determine your worth, wear the bikini because who the fuck cares if it makes people uncomfortable. All this rhetoric we've gotten used to hearing since the world has become more inclusive. I for one eat that shit up. I watch the videos, heart the videos, find myself nodding along to all the points they're making. I might even throw in a "hell yeah" or a "damn straight" if I'm really feeling it. I usually agree with most of, if not everything, they are saying. So..... what's the problem?

    The problem is as I cheer these women on there is always this little voice in my head, that I can't get to shut it, saying "they look great but thank god that's not me!" Listen I know how that sounds, trust me I KNOW. I hate myself for thinking it, I don't want to think it, yet that voice is still there and still talking. 

    I'm not gonna sit here and pretend this has anything to do with my concerns about a strangers health. I think by this point we all know that's bullshit, it very thinly (no pun intended) veiled fatphobia that wreaks of bullshit every time you hear it or see it in comment sections. Why would I be so concerned for a strangers health? It's none of my fucking business. I love how someone will comment the most vial shit and then double down and defend what they said because they're "concerned about this random person on the internets health". I mean.... at least I'm not that fucking guy, right? 

    I wanted to do a deep dive into my feeling and really workout why I feel and think this way, but a deep dive into why really isn't necessary. I know WHY it's nothing more than classic internalized fatphobia combined with her BFF internalized misogyny. Being a teen in the early 2000s is definitely a contributing factor. When it comes to body shaming and fatphobia the early 2000s are tough to beat.  It does go deeper than that though. If I'm being completely honest and saying the quite part out loud..... I've seen first hand, in real life and on the internet, how people in larger bodies are treated. I have also experience first hand how conventionally attractive people are treated. I gotta tell ya I prefer the latter. I want people to find me attractive. I want men to find me attractive. I want that validation from men, not because I want to sleep with them (gross). I want them to want to sleep with me and then have the power to crush their dreams and let it be known that will NEVER, in a million years, happen. 

    So why am I like this? I know other woman think about this stuff and worry about their bodies and their weight, but I do find myself wondering are other women thinking about/ obsessing about their bodies the same amount as me? I just hate how it's an everyday thing for me, I think about my body and how it looks multiple times every. single. day. I don't want to, I want to be one of those women on the other side of the screen saying yeah I'm fat, yeah I'm sexy, yeah I'm rocking this crop top. I think I tend to do a fairly decent job of pretending I'm that girl, but I am NOT that girl. I see plus size women all the time that I think look beautiful and HOT! I, however, am a 6 foot tall woman. The narrative in my head is shorter girls can be chubby and put on weight and still look fantastic but I can't be that tall and overweight. It's a one or the other situation. You can be tall, you can be plus size, but you CANNOT be tall and plus size.

    Two years ago I tore my ACL skiing. I had to have surgery in March of 2021. It was brutal. About six months post-op when I was finally just starting to feel like a human again, I started having a lot of pain in my shoulder. Anyway, long story short, I ended up having to have shoulder surgery in August of 2022. Needless to say it's been a rough two years. I have been pretty depressed and in a major funk. That's a big reason I've started blogging again after all these years and seemingly out of the blue. I'm just trying to find myself again, reignite old passions that used to bring me joy, such as writing. Another passion of mine has always been working out. I have gained about 25 pounds since my surgeries. This is by far the heaviest I have ever been (while not pregnant). On January 4th I was cleared by my Dr. to return to the gym. It feels great! I really am finally starting to feel like myself again more and more everyday. I have told you all this because as much as I want to pretend that FEELING like myself is significantly more important to me than losing this weight that I have gained, I don't know if that's true. I HATE admitting that! I hate that as a 36 year old woman I'm still this consumed by my body's physical appearance. That even after two surgeries and having a new respect for what a privilege mobility and health truly are, I'm STILL worried about my weight. Man diet culture, fatphobia, misogyny they sure do grab a hold tight and dig their claws in you. How do people dig the claws out? It's like I know they're there, but I don't know how to get rid of them. How do you get rid of the claws? 

Why I Ditched My Scale

I can't believe it's been over a year since my last blog! OMG where have I been!?!?! What can I say other than...kids, right? Those little time suckers that we love so much! But I've recently had an epiphany that I'd like to share with you all. This is the story of why I decided to throw out my scale. I actually wanted to take it out back and beat it office space style but I thought that might be a little on the dramatic side.

It all started back in February when I took my boys to a birthday party. The host was my fabulous friend who happened to be about 7ish months pregnant with her 3rd baby. We started talking about everything pregnancy related as us women tend to do. I was so intrigued/shocked/impressed when my friend said she had no idea how much weight she had put on with this pregnancy. She didn't get weighed at her appointments but even if she did she wouldn't have known how much she'd gained because she didn't know what her pre-pregnancy weight was. This floored me because I was so obsessed with how much I weighed and how much weight I was gaining during both my pregnancies. I feel like I should add that my friend was obviously at a healthy weight in fact she's one of those annoyingly beautiful pregnant women. So if she's healthy and the baby's healthy why not skip the awful moment of stepping on the scale? Why not just throw the POS out all together?

For as much as I obsessed over my weight during pregnancy it was even worse after. Especially after Cooper. We knew after Brayden that we wanted to have another baby pretty quickly so I wasn't as worried about it, but that doesn't mean I wasn't worried about it at all. I lost the weight pretty fast after Cooper. By the time he was 4 months I was back to my pre baby weight, but here's the kicker I was still unhappy with my body. The cold hard truth is pregnancy changes your body so even though I weighed the same I didn't look the same. Coming to terms with how my two pregnancies permanently changed my body is something I still struggle with.

Anyway back to the reason I tossed that bitch. I started thinking about how stepping on the scale has NEVER made me happy. Even if I've lost weight, even if I've reached a goal I've set for myself I'm still not happy when I see the number on the scale. I'd always find myself thinking I need to lose 5 more pounds or whatever. I'd become one of those women fixated on how much I weighed, determined to find self acceptance in the number I just never could seem to reach. Who wants to be that woman? Not me! I was never like that before. I'd always been oozing self confidence and armed with a IDGAF attitude. I decided that enough was enough and I wasn't going to spend one more second worried about how much I weighed and I haven't stepped on a scale since.

So how do I feel? I feel great! I don't have anymore of those morning where I wake up feeling good, look in the mirror and feel pretty good only to have all that ruined by weighing myself. I no longer weigh myself before and after workouts to see if anythings changed. I no longer have goals that revolve around what that awful no good scale has to say. I'm looking forward to the next time I'll get asked how much I weigh because instead of cringing and fibbing by about 5 pounds I'll answer honestly, I don't know.  

You Gotta Love Tina!

Ok so this is one of the greatest things I have ever seen! It's so so so spot on and the perfect example of why I avoid mom forums like the plague! I can't believe how judgmental, nasty, ridiculous and downright ignorant moms can be towards one another. I think mom pages are a great idea, but we've ruined them! And it's not just on the internet either, although that's defiantly where it's the worst. I don't understand why a mom can't get helpful advice from other moms without being attacked. Why do we insist on acting like we are at war with each other, like it's all some sort of competition? Being a mom is hard and parenting is NOT a one size fits all kinda deal. Instead of tearing each other down, can't we support each other instead? When someone asks a genuine question can't we answer them with a loving response without going off on a rant? We preach and preach to our children about being nice and respectful towards others so shouldn't we be doing the same?
Speaking of going off on a rant! lol ok I'm done now!
 

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Riddle Me This...

At the beginning of class everyday my fourth grade teacher, Mr. Harris, would read a brain teaser to the class. If someone could correctly answer the riddle, they would win a small candy treat. I loved hearing the brain teasers and trying to figure them out, unfortunately I sucked. There is one I always remembered, though, maybe because it's the only one I ever got right (well kinda got right, I really did suck) or maybe it's because it would end up having a deeper meaning to me later in life. Either way this was the riddle...

A farmer has a sack of grain, a chicken and a fox. He has to get them across the river and he can't go around or fly, but he does have a boat. He can only take one thing at a time across the river. The fox can't be left alone with the chicken or the chicken will get eaten. The chicken can't be left alone with the sack of grain or he will eat it. How can the farmer get them across?

This is the answer...

Take the chicken over and leave the fox and the grain. Go get the fox, drop it off and pickup the chicken. Take the chicken back across, pickup the grain and leave the chicken. Drop the grain off with the fox and go back and get the chicken. Viola, now all of them are safely across the river.

Being the sweet little (well actually I was the tallest kid in class so "little") nine year old that I was, I thought Mr. Harris was simply providing us with an activity that would simultaneously entertain and stimulate our constantly developing minds, plus I really wanted to win that candy! Little did I know he was also setting me up with the skills I would one day need to overcome one of a moms greatest challenges. Riddle me this...

A mom has a trunk full of groceries, a sleeping one year old and a crying two year old. She has to get them up the stairs and into the apartment. She can't fly or carrying everything at once but she does have two arms and two legs. She can only take one child and a couple bags at a time up the stairs. The two year old can't be left with the one year old because he'll wake him up. The one year old can't be left in the car because it's freakin freezing out. The groceries can't all be carried up at once because the mom was shopping for a family that eats a ridiculous amount of food each week. How can the mom get them inside?

This is the answer...

ummmmmmm... I told you guys already, I suck at brain teasers! Thanks anyways Mr. Harris, it was a valiant effort. I'll just give us all a piece of candy once we somehow manage get inside (ok, ok I'll probably give myself more than one piece, don't judge me!)

In Memory of an Amazing Woman, My Grandma

As I sit here in the aftermath of the passing of my Grandma I feel sad and guilty but also hopeful. I feel sad because the world has lost a truly amazing woman. The kind of woman who went to college and earned her teaching degree in a time when the world didn't value a woman with an education. The kind of woman who can raise seven children and raise them well. The kind of woman who was funny, caring, wise, loving and did it all while looking flawless! The kind of mom that I try to be. The kind of Grandma that I hope to be someday. 

I feel guilty because I hadn't seen my Grandma in two years. We lived so far away for so long, but since we moved closer 5 months ago I've been saying I really need to make the trip to see her. I didn't make the trip and now I won't get the chance. This is weighing heavily on my heart. I wish I would have tried harder to go see her. I wish she would have got the chance to meet Cooper. I hope she knew how much I love her and how much she means to me, I think she did.

I feel hopeful because her and Grandpa are finally together again. They are now in a place where there is no Alzheimer's, no pain, no surgery. They can just happily watch their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, hand in hand, side by side. I hope that the thought of being with grandpa again brought her peace in her final days. They had the kind of love that everyone yearns for, but not everyone is lucky enough to get. The kind of love that I'm fortunate enough to have with Eric. I think that I know so certainly that Eric and I have that kind of love from watching my grandparents interact with each other.

I have so many great memories from my childhood flooding my brain right now. I wonder if pecan sandies really were my Grandma's favorite type of cookie, or over the years she just came to realize that was the only kind of cookie that would last more than five minutes in a house full of grand kids. I know the oreo's in Grandpa's cookie jar didn't last long. I remember her laugh, she had a great laugh. Every Sunday Grandpa would drive Grandma into town so she could get her hair done. I always thought it was so crazy she didn't have her drivers licence. She was the only adult I knew who couldn't drive. I still have her two pink fish that hung in her bathroom for years. I always loved those fish when I was a kid and was so happy when they were given to me. Those fish have hung in every bathroom of every place I have lived since I moved out of my parents house (which has been A LOT of places!). Even all the scuzzy, run down, mice infested apartments I lived in during college. The fish always make it feel like home and that's because those fish remind me of my childhood and of my Grandma. That's what it's all about, the memories. Gone but never forgotten. I love you Grandma!

A Happy Mom = A Good Mom

Clicking on new post felt good, it felt really good. It has been so long since I have done any kind of writing and it feels good to be back. I've missed it! I just didn't realize how much until now. Since Cooper has been born (so for 11 months now) I haven't had the chance to do much writing at all. Well that's not entirely true, the truth is since Cooper's been born I haven't made much time for writing. It's actually one of my pet peeves when people use not having the time as an excuse not to do something. If it's something you really want to do it, then make the time.

My family has gone through a big change, a huge change actually, we moved from Pittsburgh PA to Rock Springs WY going on five months ago. As any of you who have ever moved before know, moving is hard! When we (we being just me and Eric back then) first moved to Pittsburgh from Butte, MT I thought we had made a big mistake. As it turns out I think moving to PA was the best thing we could have done at that time in our lives, it is my hope that I will soon feel that way about moving to Rock Springs.

One thing moving has done, well either moving or the fact that Cooper is getting a little older, is to rekindle my desire to start writing again. Writing makes me happy, it's my thing. Here is something that I've learned, it may seem obvious and simple but that's not always the case, to be the best mom you can be YOU have to be happy. A happy mom equals a good mom!

This means different things for different people. Some moms could stay at home if they wanted too, but don't because they wouldn't like it, and that's OK! It's better to sped less time with your kid if that means more "quality" time. I mean if you're home all day and miserable and cranky, sure you're around your kids more, but EVERYONE is unhappy! Are you going to be happy all day everyday? Of course not! Don't be ridiculous! There will be time when working moms feel guilty about leaving their children and there will be times when stay at home moms feel like they are literally going to go bat-shit-crazy! Trust me, this fact (the bat-shit-crazy part) I know all to well.

But it's not just if you are a working mom or a SAHM. It's much more than that, you are much more than that. It's so easy for us moms to get in the mind set that we are ONLY moms. Being a mom  is wonderful and the number one priority, but being a mom is only part of you, probably the bigest part sure, but you are still you.  It's OK to take time for yourself. It's OK to have hobbies and interests that don't involve your children. I know I know you don't have the time or the money or the energy or the whatever you excuse may be. But you need to make the time, budget in the money, drink a damn cup of coffee or whatever, it's important! It's important because it might make you feel guilty or like you're being a bad mom if you don't devote 100%  of your time to your kids, but ultimately it will make you a BETTER mom! And don't tell me spending time with your kids does make you happy, OF COURSE that makes you happy, but everyone needs some variety of one kind or another. We want our children to grow up to be well rounded people, right!?! So we need to model for them how to be well round, by being well rounded ourselves.

Another thing I also know from personal experience is this, it's easier said than done. But I'm working on it and you should too! Get out there momma and find something, other than your kids, that makes you happy!

But baby, toddler beds are for...well toddlers

It was the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Then from up the stairs there arose such a clatter I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter. Up the stairs I flew like a flash. To what did my wondering eyes appear, but Brayden out of his crib lying on the floor in fear.

So in case you didn't catch that, yesterday (which happened to be Christmas Eve) Brayden successfully climbed out of his crib and scared the crap out of me! I'm really not ready for him to be in a toddler bed yet, but I can't put him back in the crib knowing he can and will climb out. Next time he could really hurt himself. So we did the only thing we could do, we converted his crib into a toddler bed.

Brayden is 20 months old and I wasn't planing on putting him into a toddler bed for at least four more months-at least! Especially since Cooper wakes up twice a night to eat. When I'm feeding Cooper Brayden sometimes wakes up but then goes right back to sleep. Now that he isn't caged in the crib I'm worried he will get out of bed at 2 in the morning and start playing. He also wakes up around 6 most mornings when Eric gets up for work, but then goes back to sleep usually until around 8 or so. I just didn't want to deal with all that when I'm barely getting much sleep already. But ready or not it's toddler bed time.

What I didn't realize is that I'm also not emotionally ready for him to be in a toddler bed. The reason being toddlers sleep in toddler beds, not babies. So that means he is in fact a toddler. Before I know it I will be hearing the loud thunk when Cooper is able to climb out of his crib, and then my baby days will officially be over. Right now I feel okay with that, but I know it's only because I'm in the baby doesn't sleep through the night faze. In reality though, when that time does come I will be heartbroken.