I Love My Butt

I know this may seem odd at best and completely self absorbed at worst, but I'm being serious here. Something has been on my mind a lot lately - something relating to body image and self esteem and parenting. I'm going to try to make sense of it here, if that's ok with you.
There are not many other parts of my body that I would say I "love" - there are a few I like, and a lot that I simply tolerate - but I've always been happy with my backside. There's nothing particularly special about it really. I've always just.... liked it. Simple and easy. So why haven't I been able to do that for all of myself? My thoughts on the whole thing are a bit convoluted, but hang with me for a minute.
My beautiful mother has a rather large rear end (sorry Mom - I'm outing you a little in this post). It's true. But it's great. She never seemed to mind it. In fact, I think she rather likes it. And my Dad used to call it the Great White, in this completely adoration-filled way, like it was one of his favorite things about my mother.
I look a lot like my mother. She calls me her Mini Me. Everyone who knew my mom when she was my age gushes about how uncanny it is when they meet me. So it was natural, I think, for me to like the parts of myself that Mom liked in herself. It was even more reassuring to know that men might like it, too. (I have a lot of thoughts of the power of a Daddy's words on his little girl, but that's for another day.) I never consciously thought about all of this until very recently, but I think the way my mother spoke about herself (and the way my father spoke about her) influenced the way I thought about myself.
And to be honest, I never really heard my mother speak kindly of many other parts of herself. I remember her lamenting that she had inherited her father's nose. I know she wishes she had longer eye lashes. I know she thinks her hands are knobby and unattractive. Basically, she picks herself apart, just like the rest of us. But here's the thing: she is incredibly beautiful. The only person who isn't completely convinced of that is my mother. And that sucks. She deserves better.
So do I.
So do you.
I have a very long list of complaints about my body; my tummy pudge that won't go away no matter how hard I work out or how clean I eat, my big nose, my short legs, my broad shoulders, my small boobs, my crooked smile, my small eyes, my thin hair. (As I'm writing this I'm picturing that Dove commercial that made so much buzz. Have you seen it? Ugh.) But I think it's time to throw that list away.
I am a Mom now, and little ears will hear what I say.
When I was 21, I was in a Christian discipleship program for young adults. It was like boot camp for your faith. Early every morning, our director took us through a workout. He often brought his two beautiful daughters with him. I think they were something like 4 and 6 at the time. They were incredible little girls: super active and strong and happy. They would get right in there with us - work their little tails off - and then hit the showers with us afterward. One day, one of these beautiful little girls started crying in the locker room. When we asked her what was wrong, we were horrified to hear her say that she thought she was fat. Each and every one of us felt an instant pang of guilt, one that I carry still. We knew exactly where she had gotten that idea. Us. The way we spoke about ourselves. (To the parents of that little girl: if you're reading this, I don't know if I ever told you just how sorry I am. I am so, so sorry.)
Our words have so much power.
If I put those ideas into my own daughter's head.... shame on me.
I know I can't be perfect all the time - none of us can -  but I can certainly be better. I can work on it. What if I simply started saying, "I love my shoulders, because they are strong. I love my tummy, because it is soft and feminine."? Even if I don't necessarily believe it. Just say it anyway. And maybe I don't even need a "because." Maybe I can just say, "I love my legs. I love my eyes. I love my nose." Phew. I just tried that out loud, and it was hard. Even sitting here all alone. It will take a lot of work. Because I'm not talking about just changing thoughts, I'm talking about actually changing words: what comes out of our mouths when others can hear. And that's scary. Because it's safer to sound self-deprecating than self-idolizing, isn't it? No one wants to sound conceited. Can't you just hear everyone thinking, "Well someone sure thinks a lot of themselves"?  (I could go on for a long time about why I think this is. About how society likes it that way: to describe confidence as conceit and to promote self degradation. Because if we are never satisfied with ourselves, of course we will have to spend more money in the pursuit of something better.) I say phooey  to all of that. It doesn't make you conceited to accept yourself as you are. It makes you healthy and happy. And if someone thinks less of you when you start thinking better of you, well phooey on them too. Because you are more important.
And so am I.
And so are my kids.
I'm going to work on acceptance. Satisfaction. Contentment. And I'm going to speak them out loud so my children can hear me. And I'm going to pray that my daughters will find it perfectly natural to say the same things about themselves, and can avoid at least some of the struggle we have all been waging for so long. Maybe we can all work on it and can raise a new generation of people more likely to be kind to themselves and to each other.
And maybe, by working on this for the sake of my kids, I'll actually start to believe some of it.Wouldn't that be lovely?

A Not-So-Well Child Checkup

Drake and I had to make a {slightly} premature visit to the pediatrician on Friday. He was due for his 15 month well-child check this Thursday, but he hasn't been very "well" lately. It's nothing new to us - just a few bad battles with his anal stenosis. It was the fact that it seemed, both to Justin and I, to be getting worse over all instead of better, that finally prompted me to call the pediatrician and ask for the next available appointment. I just can't stand watching him cramp up and grunt and cry all the time anymore. I can't explain it any other way to you except to say that I feel like I coach my son through labor nearly every day. That is seriously the only other place I have heard sounds like the ones that come out of my son when he is trying to go to the bathroom. It's awful. So to the pediatrician we went.
Our original pediatrician in Helena is the one who made the anal stenosis diagnosis. He said there was a constriction about half an inch up in there. He told us to avoid certain foods like bananas and white rice to avoid him getting constipated on top of it, and that the act of pushing his stools out would, over time, help him to stretch and eventually grow out of the condition. When we first saw Drake's new pediatrician and filled him in on Drake's history, he seemed... skeptical. But Drake was not having trouble with it at that particular time so it wasn't much of a conversation. But now, with it seeming to suddenly get worse, he was forced to tell me what he thought. Basically, he told me it was a diagnosis he very rarely - if ever - makes and that he thought that Drake was, for whatever reason, just a child prone to constipation. He said all of this without ever having done a physical exam himself. So now it was my turn to be the skeptic. How can you tell me that my son is just constipated when I've done everything to avoid that? He gets all the right foods. Prunes, pineapples, whole grains... and nothing that can clog him up. It's honestly so disheartening to me. I'm a firm believer that food is healthcare and hesitate to medicate unless absolutely necessary. That being said, the pediatrician did go on to say that sometimes constipation can become a vicious cycle, getting big and hard on the inside and stretching out the rectum, and creating a pocket for future stools to get bigger and harder and stretch out... you get the idea. He said we needed to break the cycle. He recommended Miralax and assured me that it was a safe drug that never absorbs through the intestine wall into the bloodstream, but sits in the intestine, drawing in excess water to soften the stool. So that's what we're doing. Because he was certainly right about one thing: we have to break this cycle for my son. But I have my eye on you, doc. You better not act like I'm crazy if we encounter more problems in the future.
Drake still hasn't been able to go to the bathroom (it's now Sunday evening) though he tries every half hour or so. I'm praying the Miralax kicks in soon and we can put this all behind us. And you won't have to read the words "stool" and "rectum" so often. Sorry about that.
Other than that, Drake is doing very well. Developing normally (though he makes me abnormally proud). He's in the 50th percentile for height and weight but the 87th percentile for head circumference. Poor kid - he's got a big head just like his Momma's side of the family. I still maintain it's room for all those brains. He got caught up on his shots - two in each leg, which seemed awfully unfair to me - but he was a stud about it.
Afterward, we had to stop by the store to get the Miralax and a couple things for dinner. In the checkout line, a man in his fifties and dressed in a dirty, over sized coat started talking to Drake and I. He told us that he had four kids and NINETEEN grand kids. He was there to buy a toy for one of them. He was pretty taken with Drake, talking and smiling at him. Then he showed Drake something off the impulse-buy shelves: a blue rubber duck. Drake lit up. The man offered to buy it for him. Random kindness like that is so rare, I hardly know how to react to it. To be honest, I'm used to men that look like he did being slightly on the creepy side, leaning more towards inappropriate flirtation than anything else. I tried to politely decline, mentioning that we had some at home (we only have one). But when I tried to take the duck from Drake so that we could leave, he almost lost it. I didn't have the heart to just yank it from him after the day/week he had had. As I was trying to gently pry it from his hands and convince him that his lovie was enough, the man offered a second time. This time I smiled and said thank you. I think it made Drake's day. And the pleasant surprise was good for me, too. 

15 Month Stats:
Height: 31"
Weight: 22 lbs 11 oz
Head: 19"

Taking Care of Momma

You hear it everywhere: you have to take care of yourself to be a better mom and wife, not to mention you owe it to yourself, plain and simple. But hearing it repeatedly doesn't make it any easier to implement. For me, parenthood was such an adjustment - with so many new requirements on my time and energy - the first thing to go was me. Between school, pregnancy, and our eventual move to Three Forks for Justin's flight program, I have been unable to dance (my first love) with any consistency for almost three years now. Without it, I have quickly put on weight, lost strength, flexibility, and plenty of self esteem. After losing a pregnancy and being forced to quit nursing last month, my body image has deteriorated further. But it has also worked as a kick in the pants. I want to be a mom - I want to get pregnant again. But I want to be excited about it when it happens. A huge part of that for me is feeling physically ready - strong and healthy. So I am determined to use last month's tragedy as a motivation to do better from here on out.
I'm starting from nothing - truly. Without dance, my physical activity has been strictly limited to chasing my son around the house. I'm in the worst shape of my life. So I'm going to do this slowly. I know myself, and if I overwhelm myself with daunting tasks, I just won't do them.
So here's the plan:
On Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays I'm trying (I say trying because I've only been successful at this about half of the time so far) to get up at 6 am to head out for a walk/run. I've never been a runner, nor have I ever enjoyed running (I seriously think it was a case of PTSD from my asthmatic run-the-mile days in grade school) but I'm convincing myself that this is something to look forward to. It's actually kind of working. Those are the mornings that Justin doesn't have to get up at 4 am to leave for work, which means I can leave Drake with him and head out on my own. Looking at it as some alone time for myself actually makes it quite tempting. Mental health: addressed.
On Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays I am doing some at-home calisthenic exercises. A few very basic things just to try to rebuild some tone in my muscles before I attempt anything more intense.
Sundays I'm taking off.
I'm overhauling my family's diet and getting back to counting calories. It's such an important awareness step. We use My Fitness Pal, which makes it so easy. They have an app for smart phones or tablets that syncs with the website so you can update your food and exercise diary from anywhere. Justin and I are also doing a gentle cleanse this week - just veggie and liquid heavy. Avoiding most dairy.
Beyond that, I'm setting aside Drake's first nap of the day as time to do something I want to do, but it can't be tv. Blogging, painting, sewing, reading. Something that reminds me of the parts of myself I like and enjoy.
I plan to write about the whole process here. I'm looking to you all to keep me accountable but I also may need some encouragement along the way. And if any of you would like to join me, I would so love to go on this journey with someone. Even if your plan is different from mine, I'd love to hear from you. Let's build each other up!

Taking Care of Momma, Week 2 (I didn't write about Week 1, so we'll just start here):
Running plan: walk 7 minutes, run 2 minutes - repeat 4 times. Walk 9 minutes to cool down. Total: 45 minutes. Stretch!
Calisthenics plan: 10 squat/knee ups (squat down and then as you stand you pull one knee up above waist level, contracting your stomach, switch knees on the next squat),10 calf raises, 5 push ups on toes, 5 push ups on knees, 10 chair tricep dips - repeat 3 times. Neutral spine exercises on the foam roller - 5 minutes. (these exercises were prescribed by my chiropractor to help with alignment and core strength. This site has some good images and explanations of the kinds of things I'm doing.)  Plank - 45 seconds. Stretch!
Weight: 139 lbs
Self Esteem: poor. Let's just be honest. I'm struggling.

Goals:
Running: Run more than I walk.
Calisthenics: Get through a more intense workout without feeling like I'm going to pass out or fall over. I'm hoping to be able to follow the workouts at Body Rock by Week 5. They have a huge variety of workouts and they can all be done in 12 minutes, which seems extremely doable.
Weight: 130
Self Esteem: healthy. I just don't want to feel this hate inside. Ugh - you're not supposed to say that - but  it's true. And I know it shouldn't be.

Here we go!