Stuff I didn’t want to admit, even to myself.

I’ll tell you one thing I NEVER thought I’d be dealing with as I raised my own children, dealing with the sensation or visualization or emotionalization ~is that even a word? it is now!~ of watching one’s own child-hood very nearly replayed, in front of your bloomin eyes, by one’s own child. Yeah. Did that even make sense?

Let me put it this way. I’ve finally admitted that my child is sneak eating food. Oh, I’ve known it has been going on for awhile but I think I REALLY didn’t want to admit it. Why? I feel like a failure. That’s why. My child is hiding food wrappers in the couch cushions. It’s kinda funny cuz what? you think I’m not gonna find them? but then again it isn’t funny at all. It’s scary as hell, actually. Well, for me it is. Because I know what it’s like to want to eat something but also knowing that I’d get into big trouble if I was caught eating it, so I hid the evidence. As a child I never wanted to disappoint my parents. This is the crux. My child doesn’t want to disappoint me.

Since I’m speaking so frankly, I’ll admit that I still sneak eat food. The truth is, there are times when I want something but I don’t want the kids to see me eating it!! Probably because it’s almost dinner time & they’ll most certainly want to have whatever it is I’m having but I don’t want them to ruin their appetite. Yes, that is my story and I’m stickin to it!!  

Candy from a dish was the BEST because there was no wrapper! No evidence! You know what I’m talking about, right? Your Grandmother had a candy dish, didn’t she?! Only problem with it was the candy was generally stuck to like five other pieces of candy or to the dish itself, thereby making it virtually impossible to remove without making a shitton of noise.

Being a young girl is difficult! Body image and health and fitness and self-esteem and grades and so on and so forth. It. is. HARD. And being a parent of a girl is even f—ing harder. Unless you don’t care. Then it’s easy as pie. Which is what your child probably ate for breakfast because you don’t care anyway.

In all seriousness, I want to have a happy, healthy, well adjusted child. WHO doesn’t? The last thing in the world I want for my child is to go through the same crap I went through. She can go through some different crap! Wait, I take that back. I suppose she is going through the same shit as me because A) I still need to heal and 2) because I sort of know how to help her get through this. I hope. Dammit. This shit is hard, YO! 

I could launch into a whole tirade about the media and how it distorts our view of beauty and damages our self-esteem but that is a debate I don’t wanna get into right now. Does it? Doesn’t it? Does it only mess with those that already have image issues? Who really has the answer anyway?

Whoever said having children was easy was a lying sack of donkey dung. And they still are, too.

Thanks for listening (or reading, if you must be technical),


Posted via email from Mother Musing

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