What Would Michelle Obama do?

Growing up, I was the fat kid.  It’s a weird thing to be the fat kid, because no one tells you that you’re the fat kid until about age eight or nine.  Then some jerky ten year old looks at you and says “You’re fat”- You look down and realize that it’s true.  You look at your friends and they all are wearing jeans and you’re wearing gym pants with an elastic waist.  The cool thing about being the fat kid is that you usually end up being the funny kid too.  That was my experience.  I loved being the class clown.  Even as I got older and thinned out- I kept that sense of humor.  Getting the superlative “Class Clown” in high school was a strange but fulfilling achievement.  I was also named “Loudest” and “Class Dreamer”.  I am ridiculously loud.  I was named “Class Dreamer” because I slept through first and second period religiously every day for all four years. 

Anyway, it’s one thing to be the fat kid and it’s another thing to be the unhealthy/fat kid.  I was the unhealthy fat kid.  Before age ten, my cholesterol was ridiculously high.  Like over 200 high.  That’s horrible for a fat 70 year old man, let alone a ten year old school girl.  I was sent to specialists who taught my mother how to control my high levels.  By exercise and diet alone, I returned to normal.  I remember the first day I could fit into jeans.  My Mom put them on me and took pictures of me before I left for school.  I remember being so proud that day.

I have that similar feeling nowadays.  After getting married, I managed to gain a lot of weight again.  Last year, I got rid of it.  The good old fashion way, diet and exercise. 

As Hayden and I were getting our nails done last week (yes, Hayden gets manicures with me- she loves them) I heard the Spanish girls that give massages talking in Spanish about how big Hayden was.  I have never let on to them that I totally speak and understand Spanish.  It’s more fun that way.  I like to listen to them whisper about all the customers while I get my massage.  Unlike the Korean manicurists, I actually know they’re not talking about me.  At first, I thought they were just commenting on how “big” she is as in “old”- then I realized that they meant “big”, like “heavy”, like (gasp) “fat”. 

Gordita.

For the first time, I turned and looked one girl right in the eye and told her that Hayden was very healthy and she just happened to like her pasta a little too much.  She quickly shut up and looked at me in surprise.

Then it dawned on me.  Not that Hayden is fat.  She’s a healthy kid- but I let her eat crap.  I let her eat pasta for lunch, then for dinner if she wants it.  If we’re out and she wants French fries, I get them for her.  If she’s watching TV and asks for a piece of chocolate, I hand it to her.  I let her eat crap that I wouldn’t even eat anymore. 

What would Michelle Obama do?

So, my New Years Resolution is to change Hayden’s eating habit in a more healthy way.  Will I deprive her?  No way.  She’s just a kid.  But will I eliminate all the junk from her diet?  You bet.  The kid also needs some cardio, so I’m looking into a baby treadmill or maybe just some kind of new cardio-intensive gym class.  Do they do weight training for kids?  I did buy her some one pound weights at the Sports Authority.  She needs to start somewhere.

At the end of the day, I never want her to look at that ten year old boy who just told her she’s fat and realize it’s true.  I guess as Mommy’s that’s what we want to do, protect our kids. 

I want her to win superlatives like "Most Gorgeous, Smartest, Caring".