Tuesday, October 4, 2011


Things are settling down a bit. Thank goodness!  All this running around is wearing me out.

Hubs foot is much better. He says he's been good and wears his boot at work. My tiny man is all healed from his surgery last week. And the big guy hasn't had a headache in a few days. (probably shouldn't have said that out loud).

As far as I go, I'm still in physical therapy for my feet. I'm told I'll be done in another two weeks or so. I also have an appointment with the orthopedist next week about my arm. Hopefully I'll just need to let it rest a few more weeks and will be good-as-new.

There is something bothering me a bit today. I received my copy of Creating Keepsakes magazine yesterday. For those who don't know, it's a scrap booking magazine. Anyway, there was a cute layout (page) shown to discuss some "tips and tricks". Anyway, the page is of a baby and there are a number of words to describe the baby. One of the words is "fatso".  Now, I realize babies can have that cute baby "chub" and they can be rolly-polly. I get all that. I just hate seeing that word: Fatso. It's the first word on this page. It's in this magazine for the world to see. Forever. Granted, it is a baby and he/she may never be "fat". But that word just bothers me. I suppose I am just hyper-sensitive because I've always been overweight. I've always been the "fatso". Was called that a number of times as a kid. I hated it. Clearly, I still do.

And while we're on the subject of children, I tend to get my spine up when people tell me my kids are so big. That was also a word to describe me as a kid. It was a nice way to call me "fat". I have to remind myself that people aren't calling my kids fat. They best not be. My kids aren't fat. They are "big" for their ages in that they are tall and built like rocks. Fat? No way. I work very hard at teaching them proper nutrition. I certainly do not want them to go through life having to fight the weight battle. There are enough battles to fight without having to fight this one too.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Jenn! I was called "fat" by my oldest brother nearly every day since 1st grade until 9th grade (when he moved out of the house). I wasn't even fat during most of those years. But it really hurt. And, of course, I still don't like this brother a single bit. Why should I? He never said a single thing nice to me during my entire childhood.

    I think that your post reminds me to be extra nice and look for something good about everyone (which, of course, everyone has)--instead of dragging people down.

    :-) Marion