Shallow Hal

We watched the movie Shallow Hal last night. Being a person who has a fragile self esteem it has always been a favorite. As it is my hope that people, (Besides my mom, who reads this blog), judge me for me, instead of my failed outer covering.

I grew up in a Barbie world. But being thin, and being able to eat whatever I wanted to, I never realized the impact that princess persona was having upon me. I fit in. I had no worries. Now that I am pushing 50, (a few years away), the pounds have found their way to me, and I can't escape the constant reminders of being a physical failure. I don't look cute in clothes, or out of them now that I think about it. Lucky I was never a fashion plate so it's status quo to have my clothes modest and comfortable.

Still the ideal of being thin is constantly held up as perfection. For happiness we are told we need the perfect body, the perfect smile, the perfect outfits. In reality these women that are so perfect have lives that have more twists and downward turns than a Shirley Temple hair do. Still, to be thinner. Part of my problem is I had children later in life. I'm in the school trenches with the 20 somethings, when I could be the grandma something... I'm not a grandma. According to my children's ages, I'm a mommy fighting to stay out of old lady clothes.

Last week at the Y my youngest said, "Mommy you have a fat tummy."

At the pool, so she and her sister could get practice before their lessons start later this month, I remembered my plan for getting in a few laps while they practiced their skills. Would this plan go by the wayside? After treading water for a half hour (telling myself treading water in the deep end is exercise too.) so they could practice jumping in and swimming back to the side, I sent them to play in the shallow end so I could do a few laps -- just a quarter of a mile.

"Why?" was their water logged question in unison.

"Because," was my answer punctuated by perfect rotary breathing, "I have a fat belly."

Five laps later the little one was waiting for me at the end of the lane. "You belly isn't fat. It's soft and sensitive." She couldn't have been more correct.