My Dad

I love my dad.  I love him with all my heart.  I would love so much to be able to help him.  I think that is why I try so hard to help others.  I feel like I failed him.  I haven't been able to help him lose his weight that he has been carrying for so long.  He has yo-yo dieted for years.  I remember him being on NutriSystem and him disliking the cardboard food.  He has a problem with food choices, portion sizes, and exercise.  I try to give him advice. He shakes his head and agrees to try but I know he just telling me that to make me happy (and shut-up). 

I remember watching him eat steak fingers, french fries drenched in ketchup and gulping big glasses of sweet tea.  I found it replusive the amount of food that he could eat but yet I have the tendency.  I can sit down to a plate of food and eat until I pop.  I have to use self control not to eat and eat and eat.  Sometimes, I don't have it.  I will go back for seconds and then clean my children's plates.  It is a disease that I have to control.  It is better today than it has ever been because I have taught myself that the food will be there tomorrow. 

Big Boned

My mother described my build as "big boned".  As far as I can remember, I was "big boned" when my bathing suit didn't fit, when my leotard was too tight, when my jeans  made the butt crinkle, or when my legs rubbed together.  I thought that this was the way it was...I never thought it was the way that I was fed. 

Being in the South, everything is southern fried and the tea is sweet.  It isn't uncommon to have fried chicken and spaghetti at the reunion with the fixins' and a big jug of sweet tea.  All the local diners had fried chicken, fried steak, or fried potatoes on the menu.  The sweet tea came free with the meal.

Spam and Butter Beans

When we had money, we ate well.  When we had no money, we ate spam and butter beans.  Food was a status symbol for my mom.  She grew up very poor so when we had income, there was steak and potatoes.  When we were getting food supplies from the Salvation Army and the local church food banks, it was spam and butter beans. 

Sweet tea was a staple.  You could put a spoon in the jug and it would stand straight up.  If we had salads, it was lettuce, tomato, cheese, cold cut meat, and lots of french dressing.  My mom fried everything.  We had a jar of lard by the stove.  We drank tang and kool-aid that would make your lips pucker.  We attended family reunions that would have fried chicken, fried chicken and more fried chicken (biscuits was optional).

I grew out of these habits.  I now eat fish, eggplant, snap peas, and the such.  My cousins were awe struck when we went out to dinner and I order steak, sweet potatoes, and salad (with the dressing on the side).  I drink lots of water and a soda every now and then (that is a whole other story). 

If I can change, so can you.

Dance Lessons

I have 15 years of dance experience.  My mother put me in classes at the age of 5.   I was on the dance team/colorguard in high school. I continued with dance in college.  I have video of all my recitals and talent shows, pictures of contests, and playbills of the performances. When I look at my treasures of life, my focus isn't on my accomplishments but on my roundness.  I was a rather round child which travelled into my teen years.  I can see the pooch in my leotards and costumes.  My mother never told me I was "chunky".  In her eyes, I was perfect.  

I was active but I had poor eating habits. I remember getting up with my mother on Saturday mornings and going yard sale hunting.  I would eat a pack of Peanut Butter Nabs before we headed out with a coke.  We would then stop at Hardee's to get breakfast for everyone.  I would eat a fried steak biscuit with hashbrowns and another soda.  Lunch was probably a sandwich or a hot dog from the local hamburger joint with dinner being from Ryan's Buffet Bar. 

I continued to eat like this until high school. The first day of 9th grade I knew that something had to change.  It was a conscious decision, I just knew that if I continued then I was going to be as big as my dad.  Fear set in.

Jumping Jacks and Sit-ups

When my mom and dad couldn't afford dance lessons anymore, I turned to exercise to try to reduce the pudge.  I remember looking at my Dad, who I adore, and telling myself that I didn't want to look like him.  I described my dad as a big man but really he was severely overweight.  He has tried several diets and forms of exercise but his excuse has always been...why teach an old dog new tricks.  My mom enabled him and really didn't help with changing his lifestyle.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't blame them.

To make matters worse, my sister has always been rail thin and she could eat Doritos and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups.  I would be eating a banana for a snack and she would be wolfing down those treats.  Now, it has caught up with her but how was I to know that at 13.  It frustrated me.

I have always been fearful of being "fat".  I remember I asked my husband early in our marriage if he would love me if I gained 50 pounds.  He would laugh and say "now we all know that isn't going to happen."  The fear of "fat" has been instilled into my brain.