Picture it:
The LGBB was having a Me Party. A party by herself, if you will…
But dang, the catchy tune was so good I had to join in. It became a Me Party + 1. Lolly was delighted! Mostly because I had come in when Miss Piggy joined the duet and, apparently, she saw an opening that was perfect for me to fill.
“Okay, Mummy… okay, you…” Lolly started organising and gesticulating with her arms and waving me into position like a stressed out backstage director, “you be Miss Piggy. Because you’re fat….”
My face must have belied any attempt I made to mask my shock and horror, because my little stick insect-sized daughter (his genes, not mine, obviously) followed that up with, “Or not…. maybe.”
Crestfallen, I took the tuna salad I had just made myself and retreated to the family room.
I was in tears. This was ridiculous. I’ve made such progress. I don’t consider myself “fat”, although I’m certainly large. I’ll never be a waif. I don’t want to be, if truth be told. Life has delivered some pretty hard knocks. I need meat on my dense bones, I can’t afford to blow away on a stiff breeze.
But being hit right between the eyes with this reality today gave me a jolt. Not so much about myself and my perceived size, but the realisation that despite our attempts to not bring body image into our language at all, our observant and opinionated daughter has her own take on things.
Let me just interrupt myself here to say, outright, that the LGBB meant no harm. There is no malice and no hierarchy in her reasoning. She simply states facts, in that childlike way they do. But here, now, was a tricky conundrum Steve and I hadn’t been properly prepared for: How do we let her know that her words hurt (she knew I was upset and asked her Dad if she had said something to make me sad after I had walked away to another room for a while for some thinking time out), without drawing attention to body image? It seemed unavoidable. It is something we have skirted for so long, simply by not taking issue with it… there hasn’t been a need before now, I suppose.
Steve made a valiant effort of explaining to Lolly that it’s not really appropriate to pass comment on anyone about how they appear – whether it be that they are short, tall, stout, skinny, fast, slow…. The whole general minefield of passing comment on another’s appearance ought to be avoided. But on the other hand, it was just fact (to her). We don’t praise her for being thin as a bag of bones – her size (apart from every second person exclaiming about her height – yes, we know… she’s tall, okay already!) is not something we use to identify her strengths. Instead, we go for how she is with others, the things she does, and so forth. Of course, we tell her she’s beautiful – who doesn’t tell their children that? – but it doesn’t go much beyond that. A person’s worth, in our home, is not measured by their looks. How we are towards others is prioritised over what size we are.
I know Lolly knows this. I’ve just never heard her say the words “you’re fat” before.
I guess now she knows the difference. She got it. She came to me and said she was sorry and gave me a generous hug and pat on my hair. I chose not to accept it as patronizing me further. (OK OK so I’m premenstrual… WHAT on earth gave that away????!! *sheepish*)
And me? Well, I’m now resisting turning my Me Party into a Pity Party with some of these round doughy things……
How about you? Have you ever had to broach the sensitive issue of not commentating on others’ appearance with your children? How did you do it without making a “thing” about it?
Did you hear my sharp breath in at the narrative high?
I think how Lolly spoke to you, like she was just sharing an observation and it’s not a big deal, means you’ve done your job well. But this is exactly how she should learn about body image, in a natural way, specific to her environment… not from a current afair, billboards and watching disorded eating.
You’ve done good mumma bear!
Isaac and I went through a phase where he would put his little hands on my belly and look up at me with his big blues and ask “are you growing a baby” so cute and so, so not…
oxox
Oooh, Hannah, you do make a girl feel better about herself x I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thanks.
Oh dear, so so not cute, Isaac! Got to love the belly pats from the little kiddies when they go through *that* curious “can you grow me a new baby sibling?” phase….!
My little 7yo fact machine does this but he thinks someone is ‘fat’ if they’re bigger than him. And, you know, all adults are bigger than him. One day he told me my bum was very wide so I was there trying to work out what to say and Husband piped up with something along the lines of a woman’s hips being wider than a male’s because of child bearing. And Mr 7 turned to him and said “but your bum is big too”. Another day the kids and DH were late picking me up from the gym and Mr 7 had said “it doesn’t matter that we’re late, mummy needs to lose a few more kilos”. I have no idea where that came from!
Now Miss4 is doing the whole “har HAR Daddy has a big tummy” because of Peppa Pig. How rank is that show? They’re always pointing out the father being overweight and needing to exercise!
Bloody Pepper Pig! I think that’s the only place my daughter could get the concept from too. She suddenly started pointing out the “fat tummy” of the local lollypop guard and I was shocked because we don’t use that language. Your little Fact Machine is factual, alright. And then some!
We are still having this issue with our 11 year boy who can’t understand why it’s not OK to pass comment on absolutely everyone – his mum, the lady in the sweet shop, a taxi driver, some guy we’ve passed for the first time in the street. This is compounded by the fact he has a voice loud enough to create its own sonic boom. How do you explain indeed.
I’ve given up. I’m searching for a gag on ebay.
Oh God. You mean sometimes it doesn’t stop? Oh, what am I saying… I’ve met enough adults to know, indeed, sometimes it doesn’t ruddy well stop! Good luck with that one. Surely a recent book phenomenon (of a certain shade) will have made gags on Ebay popular, or so I hear… you should have no trouble!
Well, Big Miss kept asking me when my fat tummy was going away after I had the baby. Because in the early days she wanted to know why it wasn’t deflated as soon as he was out. The months dragged on, and still she wanted to know when. All I can tell her is I’m working on it. But, hey, I hear you, that F word directed straight at you hurts, no matter the bearer.
As for commenting on others, early on I have engaged the kids in a kind of secret telling. So whilst we are out and about amongst society, if they have a question or a comment about other people, it’s to be a secret between them and me – to be told directly into my ear. My commitment must be to listen to them straight away and not put it off or the whole cover is blown. For eg “mummy, why is that man using crutches?” “why does that person walk funny” “how come that man has writing all over his arms?”. If they whisper it, nothing is off limits and their questions get answered and none of us have to deal with that awkward silence that follows a kids nosy and loud question or comment out in public. So far it has worked like a charm for us, I put it it to them that questions can hurt feelings but it is okay still to want to know answers, only ask the one who knows all – ME!
Allie! SO lovely to see you xox I was over your way on the weekend for a family function and wondered how you were, and here you are. Serendipitous, as usual.
I think you’re really onto something there. I mean, that ticks all the boxes! Including, “mother knows all”…. I want that one to be believed for as long as possible!
My kids seem to think my husband needs to know that his hair is receeding a bit and that he has some wrinkles around this eyes because when they are close up, not out of insensitivity but they find it interesting.
My 2.05 metre tall 18 year old son is thinking about having a tshirt printed up, with “yes, I know I am tall”, or “no, I don’t play basketball”
Rachel, gee. He’s tall…. He must be good at basketball *ducks* Aaargh! That’s a good point, it’s not insensitivity and it *is* interesting to them! (and honest)
I like what Hannah said – she said what I wanted to say.
Kids say what in on their mind, they haven’t figured out yet that what they say can have an effect on even their own mum.
I LOVE my son’s hairdresser, because she always comments on how much he has grown, and how he is fast catching up to her. She’s so got it right with him, everyone else comments on how short he is. Because clearly he hasn’t figured that one out for himself yet. Fools.
Now, see, that’s a person who gets it. There is no point passing comment on someone’s appearance if it’s not going to leave them feeling validated or acknowledged in a positive way, is there?
As for Hannah, she’s a wise one. For sure.
Oh Kirrily, I was crying tears at the story above, and then nearly choked on my tea and spat it out over the keyboard on this one. It is a hard one, as body image and body size is a sensitive issue and as you say LGBB meant nothing by it. I think Steve did a wonderful job of explaining. xxx
Me too, Kakka. Thank God for him and his voice of reason (which can also irk at times, let’s be honest!). xx