I (Almost) Heart My Mom Bod

Someone recently referred to my five-year-old as a "skinny, little thing."

A lot of women would love to have someone use those adjectives to describe them, but not my girl. Madeline was aghast. "I am not skinny," she said with great indignation placing her hand on her jutted out (skinny) hip.

"Y..." I stopped myself. I was about to say, "Yes, you are," but why? She didn't want to be labeled as skinny. She saw it as a defect not an elusive prize like so many of us do.

So instead I agreed with her. "You're right. You're healthy and strong."

She beamed. Then she flexed her big biceps before skipping off to play.

Later that same day I'm undressing when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in that nervy, big-mouthed full-length mirror of mine. It doesn't matter how many crunches I do, my mirror affronts me with the cold, hard truth that my third baby has left my stomach a bit mushy. Clothes hide it well, but the naked truth is much more revealing. 

Everything has shifted, including, thank goodness, the way I'm starting to think of my softer form. I'd like to think my daughter's positive self-image is rubbing off on me. I love how she sees herself as not being a "skinny, little thing" but a healthy girl with quick legs and strong arms. When do girls start idolizing thinness instead of strength, anyway?

I'm not sure, but I know it is motherhood that has helped me to be more aware of the beauty of my body - and certainly, its stamina. Running a marathon before I had kids was nothing compared to the endless physical work of being a mom to three little ones!

Three babies later, I see my body as changed but not flawed. I don't disparage myself so much. I don't pick apart my body (too often). I still have bad days when I'm tempted to allow my weight or my clothing size to evaluate my worth, but I have many, many more good days. Days when I remind myself that anything worth creating bids a price from its creator. (I'd like to remind Jillian Michaels of this, too, after she rejected pregnancy out of fear of what it might do to her body.) God has chosen me to co-create babies. And so my body has paid a price. It probably will never be the same as it once was in my pre-mom days. And I'm starting to be okay with that. Not always head-over-heels in love with the idea of my "mom bod" - but I've accepted the physical changes as a part of my calling, and there are plenty of days when I find I'm content with my body. And I'm always thankful for it and its power to bring forth and nourish new life.

"Let's go play!" my children shout as they barge into the room. I say good-bye to my reflection, and I step into life. And I think I look pretty good doing just that.

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What would you say to Jillian Michaels after she was quoted as saying, "I'm going to adopt. I can't handle doing that to my body. Also, when you rescue something, it's like rescuing a part of yourself"?

As I recently wrote over at Kind Conversation, I would tell her something like this: Becoming a mom doesn't mean you transform into an unattractive lump. But you do change and so does your body. Truth is, I don't need sculpted shoulders or six-pack abs. I'd rather have strong enough arms that can hold a toddler. A lightly-padded lap for a small child to rest upon. Fit legs to chase an older child in a game of tag. Pregnancy is a physical sign we are living out our vocations. The physical marks of carrying a baby and motherhood may not be easy to grapple with, but they are sacrificial signs of our love for our family.

I'd also tell Michaels that while it's true that motherhood may leave you with a slightly softer form and it may even hijack your sleek abs, there's nothing like bringing a child into the world to make you feel strong. 

I've obviously been thinking a lot about this topic and honestly, I feel badly for Michaels. Perhaps in her heart of hearts she'd love to carry a child, but she's afraid of losing her career - a career that has been built around having a killer body. Her self-image is so wrapped around the way she looks like so many women in Hollywood (and sadly, so many of us, too). In Hollywood, the pressure to be thin, flawless, forever young, and perfectly lovely is tremendous. I feel sad for these beautiful women who have been given so much but are not as content as I am even though I walk around in a mist of Eau du Breastmilk, don't wear designer clothes, and boast a cushy tummy.

I was reading about St. Therese the Little Flower tonight and came across these words of her: "For one pain endured with joy, we shall love the Good God more forever." I thought about how it is our sufferings - whether they come in the form of morning sickness or mourning the body we once had - that will help us to love God more, to be like God more who gave up his only Son as a sign of his great love for us. 

So there's certain dying to self, as a someone eloquently wrote over at Kind Conversation, a dying to our youthful bodies that comes with motherhood, age, or disease. But in that dying, there is joy. There is new life. There is goodness. And there's inner peace that can't be found by looking in the mirror. 

What I've also been thinking about is how  thankful I am that I'm out of the limelight. I once considered pursuing a career in acting and spent a summer in Los Angeles where my looks were picked apart - not easy at all. Horrible for a young girl with a fragile self-image, actually. Perhaps if I'd stayed along that route, I, too, would have said something like what Michaels said more out of fear than anything else, especially given my own struggles with disordered eating and body image. (Michaels was supposedly an overweight kid and suffered horribly for it, so I'm sure this is coming into play as well. I don't care if she says she's over that part of her past. I know from experience body image problems have a way of rearing their ugly heads even after you thought you'd slayed them for good.)

I'm thankful the only paparazzi I have checking me out are three little girls - one of which was watching me clean up after dinner with my hair all askew and said out of the blue, "You are 'bootiful,' Mommy." 

The funny thing is despite not looking my best, I felt really, really beautiful at that moment. I want all women to feel that way without having to conform to a certain physical ideal. That's tough for women like Michaels whose body is what has helped her earn fame and recognition. So let's pray for those women like Michaels who have put so much emphasis on their bodies or faces or the size of their clothing almost as a matter of survival. The media is being tough on Michaels now because of her comment, but imagine if she packed on a few pounds. Then they'd be attacking her for letting herself go. 

Let's also pray that we and our children don't fall into the trap of believing we should be made in the unrealistic image of media when we are fearfully, wonderfully made in the image of the Divine Author.

Peer Pressure

Welcome to the April Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting advice!
This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month we're writing letters to ask our readers for help with a current parenting issue. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants. If you're new to Momopoly, please consider grabbing my feed or subscribing to my posts by email. I'd love to have you. :-)
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Dear Fellow Parents,

So here’s my predicament. My oldest daughter, who is 5, has made a new friend, and I don’t like her. Not one bit. I can’t really put my finger on why. I mean, this friend is always (I mean, always!) smiling. She has the perfect manners and wonderful hygiene (she's perfectly well-manicured, in fact). Besides, plenty of other moms think of her as a suitable playmate for their daughters. 


But there’s just something about her. I don’t want to be a  helicopter parent or go all Victorian on my daughter. Nor do I want to over-analyze this friend's magnetism, but I’m wondering if I should nip this relationship in the bud before it blossoms into anything more serious.

As it stands, Madeline only sees this friend at others’ houses. We haven’t invited her to our own home as much as Madeline dreams of allowing her into our inner circle. 

I’ve tried to be nonchalant about this particular friend. I avoid talking about her and when Madeline brings her up, I quickly change the subject. But my daughter is growing more and more persistent. She’s always been a tenacious one. She works very hard to break you, and I’m starting to think that my stance against this friend may backfire and make her even more desirable to my daughter.

“What don’t you like about her?” Madeline asked recently.

“What do you like about her?” I countered.

“She’s pretty,” Madeline said simply.

But that’s just it. She is pretty. Too pretty. Too fake. Too perfect. I’m worried about the peer pressure that comes in to play when your peer is carved from shiny plastic.

Yes, the friend my five-year-old covets answers to the name of Barbie, and she’s more than just a pretty face. She’s gone all smart and nerdy on us. That’s a good thing, right? I’m not so sure. As if having amazing (and impossible) measurements, lustrous hair, and red-rose lips wasn't enough pressure, now Barbie’s sending a message that you’d better be in the running for Mensa membership and look like a bombshell if you want society to notice you. Ugh.

So I’m probably being overly dramatic here and perhaps over-analyzing Barbie a bit too much. (It's in my nature to overthink the smallest details.) What’s my deal with the doll anyway? She is just a doll. Yet, while I wouldn't go so far as banning my daughter from visiting houses where Barbie hangs around, I'd prefer for the beauty to not become a permanent fixture in our home. 

Here’s my current case against adding Barbie to our family:

1. We already have too many toys. I’m afraid two decades from now Madeline might end up on that show Hoarders. I’ve never seen the program, but my mother-in-law has and she informs me the "stars" of the show are people who just can’t part with stuff.  Their houses are overrun with things to the point that they cannot move around or function within the walls of their homes.


While Madeline is a sweet, generous girl who is eager to share with her sisters and friends, parting with stuff isn’t easy for her. Just the other day she discovered a bag I'd stuffed with old clothes and toys to be given away.


"You're giving away my polka dot shoes?"


"Yes, Honey. They don't fit you anymore."


"Keep them for Rae or M.E." (Rae and M.E. are her younger sisters.)


"They were hand-me-downs, and I think I'm ready to give them someone else. Plus, they're a little scuffed up."


Sigh from Madeline. "Okay. They smell like pee anyway."


I forgot about the peeing in the shoe incident (don't ask).


Then she noticed the puzzles. The girl has dozens of puzzles. She does enjoy putting the pieces together, but you can only have so many puzzles.


"No! You can't give that puzzle away. It glows in the dark," she says.


I look at the space puzzle and sigh. "Fine. Then pick out another puzzle to give away. You don't need all these puzzles."


To her credit, she quickly selects a board book that actually contains several never-used puzzles. "This one," she says.


So I toss it to the pile, wondering why she clings to stuff so much.


Maybe it's part of her genetic makeup. Truth is, I still have notebooks from the second grade where I scribbled down silly stories. I'm all nostalgic about those stories. Besides, I can't give away my nonsensical story about Jake the Snake. (Although I could afford to part with some of my clothes from long ago.)


Maybe my little hoarder is only preparing for the possibility of drought and lean times ahead. You know, like the pioneers hoarded and preserved food by stashing it in root cellars and by drying, by smoking, by pickling and salting everything. Maybe you can't take the Laura Ingalls out a girl who wants to thrive and survive. 


Even babies seem prone to want to pile things up (think block towers). Still, I'm not sure stuffed animal dogs and random beads she's found on the floor at the grocery store are the best items for a survival stockpile.


Once I freed a new toothbrush from its plastic prison but before I could toss the package, Madeline snatched it from my hands and said she wanted to keep it because it was “sparkly.” I refused to let her, which in retrospect was silly of me. I should have let her keep the sparkly cardboard and then ditched it while she was sleep to save both of us from some intense emotions. Of course, she probably would have discovered it in the trash just like she found those polka dot shoes and puzzles out in the garage.


Every day I work to teach her that when we have too much stuff, we not only add unnecessary clutter to our lives, but we don’t end up using half the stuff we do have. Wouldn’t it be nice if each of our kids only had one toy but it was a really, really treasured toy - like Laura Ingalls’s beloved doll named Charlotte? (I wish that part of Laura remained deeply planted in my daughter.) 


Not to mention, there are so many people with so little. A few days ago the girls were running in a sprinkler laughing with a neighborhood friend. I watched the endless supply of clean water spray on the children, and I felt a pang of guilt. Here these American children were playing in a sprinkler when there are millions of people who do not have access to clean, drinking water. 


What does this have to do with Barbie? Not much, I suppose. Just as forcing our kids to clean their plates isn't going to save starving children, not allowing my daughter to start a Barbie collection isn't going to save the children. It may not even help her to detach herself from things. However, I do think it's good for kids to want for things. Besides, there are just so many better toys out there. I’d rather buy her ten new books than one Barbie.


But onto reason number two...


2.  I worry about how Barbie’s perfect and unattainable beauty and curves might impact my daughters’ body image. I loved Barbie as a kid and while I don’t for a second blame her perfect beauty on my own tortured relationship with food and my body, I don’t completely discount her from sending some sort of subliminal message that if you want to be valuable, powerful, and/or happy, work on getting yourself a great pair of legs and you-know-what-else. 


As a kid, I remember giving two of my favorite Barbies (I’d named them Aurora and Rosie) bad haircuts. At first, it felt good to see their uneven bangs and their silky hair turned all spiky, but then regret and even shame crept in and made me wince at their crowns of glory turned crowns of gory. How dare I destroy their pristine beauty? Big brothers were supposed to do that, not Barbie's beloved protectress. I still can remember crying crocodile tears over the pile of shiny hair and delivering a eulogy of sorts to it. So I was a weird kid. Clearly, there were some issues that had nothing to do with Barbie. But still. I don’t know. My girls will already have to wade through and learn to ignore the barrage of messages and images that being thin and beautiful equates to desirability, success, happiness, and social acceptance. Why should I allow one more thing - as innocuous as poor Barbie may be - to tempt them to fall prey to the narcissistic pursuit of a perfect body and good hair to boot?


3. Now perhaps my weakest argument is the physical threat Barbie poses on my youngest daughter. Long before she notices her shiny beauty, my baby will lust after her shoes - not because she cares a thing about style. In fact, if you try to put anything on her feet, she wrestles with them until her piggies are bare and free again.  However, tiny toy accessories draw my baby in like a bug zapper lures in insects. I have already fished out a safety pin, beetle, and a plastic gem stone from her mouth. I do not need any other potential chokers littering our floor and threatening the life of our youngest child.

There you have it.  These are my current arguments against Barbie. Now here’s where you come in. I need your input. Am I being ridiculous? Be honest. Am I making things worse by being so adamant against the bombshell? Fact of the matter is Madeline talks far more about Barbie now that she knows I won’t let her have one. 


Likewise, I don’t want my girls thinking I’m eschewing all that it means to be feminine. I like cute shoes (people have teased me and said that I have Barbie feet because of my high arches and the fact that they’re a small size 5 to 5 1/2). I enjoy dressing up. There’s nothing wrong with my girls being drawn to prettiness provided it doesn’t transcend into the Holy Grail of their happiness. Should I relent? Do you think if I let the poor, deprived child have one Barbie (if she's willing to save for it and buy it with her own money, something she has petitioned for), that would be the end of it? Forbidden fruit always appears so much tastier until you take a bite, right? 


Madeline doesn’t see commercials, so the only way she really learns about new toys is from her friends (who are, by the way, all great little girls who don’t seem brainwashed by Barbie’s beauty at all), but the only toy she really seems to hanker after is Barbie. Am I wrong to boycott the plastic beauty from our home? What are your personal feelings on Barbie?


Then again, I'm not a wishy-washy parent. I will set certain rules, limits, and boundaries and stand by them, and not care what the rest of the world is doing. But this isn't really about taking the moral high road. It's about having one stinkin', albeit busty doll, for goodness' sake, and a doll that many, many of her other friends own (and ironically completely ignore rather than obsess about like my own daughter).

As long as we're on the topic, are there any toys you personally disapprove of and won’t allow your children to have? How do you handle it? Please do share. I'm eager to hear your feedback!

Sincerely,
A Prejudiced and Conflicted Mom

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Visit Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

(This list will be updated by the end of the day April 13 with all the carnival links.)

• Replace hitting with…? — Acacia at Be Present Mama is at a loss on how to handle her three year old's hitting.
• Two Questions — Alexandra at Breastfeeding Momma would like some ideas on how to strengthen her bond with her 8-month-old daughter; she's also looking for input on an emotional topic: vaccines.
• Balancing Needs When Baby Trumps Mama — Alison at BluebirdMama wonders how her child's need for noise and energy balances out against her need for quiet and space. (@childbearing )
• The McDilemma — Annie at PhD in Parenting is on the arches of a McDilemma. (@phdinparenting)
• Where is the mutually agreeable solution? When parenting calls for blood draws — Arwyn at Raising My Boychick has a child who needs regular blood tests that are torment for him. How does a parent honor a child when his health is on the line? (@RaisingBoychick)
• When To Wait To Nurse — Cave Mother wonders what age toddlers can be asked to wait to nurse.
• I don't love you Mama! — CurlyMonkey wonders what to do with her daughter's intense feelings. (@curlymonkey_)
• Help a Mama Out — Danielle at Born.in.Japan isn't getting much sleep with her cosleeping, night nursing, cranky little guy and hopes you can help with some suggestions for shuteye. (@borninjp)
• Dear Abby: My daughter really misses her Daddy — Darcel at The Mahogany Way needs to know how to help her daddy's girl get the connection with her father she needs — and not feel left out in the process. (@MahoganyWayMama)
• What's Going on at School? — Deb at Science@home is in a quandary: how can she find out what really goes on at school without stepping on the teacher's toes? (@ScienceMum)
• April Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting Advice — Dionna at Code Name: Mama wants to find volunteer work that includes her toddler. (@CodeNameMama)
• How do you deal? — Erin at Beatnik Momma does not want to engage in "mommy wars." She'd like your input on how (and how much) to discuss her natural parenting choices with curious friends and family who parent differently. (@babybeatnik)
• Dear Abby — The Grumbles at Grumbles and Grunts gave her son a banana...and no solid food since. What's the next step in baby-led weaning? (@thegrumbles)
• Excuse me, I have a poop question — Jessica at This is Worthwhile has a question for you about toddler tinkling. (@tisworthwhile)
• The Half Empty Nest Syndrome: What to do when Momma gets replaced by a cow? — Joni Rae at Kitchen Witch Momma is suffering from "half-empty nest syndrome": what do you do when your babies start growing up? (@kitchenwitch)
• Peer Pressure — Kate at Momopoly worries what message her daughter's new friend is sending — but how to break up such an infatuation? (@Momopoly)
• When I Fall Down — Katherine at Momioso.com needs your wisdom on how to be more gentle and at peace with herself. (@naturalparent)
• A question of sleep and sanity — KeepingMumSane needs your toddler cosleeping advice in order to, well, keep mum sane! (@keepingmumsane)
• April Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting advice — Lauren at Hobo Mama needs a chiropractor … or help getting her 36 lb toddler to walk up the stairs. (@Hobo_Mama)
• Driver's Ed for Mommies — Maman A Droit is a self-confessed terrible driver and is scared to drive with her baby in the car.
• Solo Parenting — Mammapie at Downside Up and Outside In needs tips for being a single working mother while her partner's away. (@mammapie)
• Itsy Bitsy Biter — Mamapoekie at Authentic Parenting needs your advice about her daughter, otherwise known as the pitbull.
• How Can I Avoid Beauty Obsession? — Melodie at Breastfeeding Moms Unite! is at a loss ever since her tomboys turned into wannabe princesses. (@bfmom)
• Seeking Stability in Chaos — Michelle at Seeking Mother is in a heart-wrenching position. She needs your input on how to make a toddler feel secure during a time of transition, the illness of a parent, and multiple (new) caregivers. (@Seekingmother)
• Mama, That's Too, Too Boring! — Michelle at The Parent Vortex started out asking how to encourage her preschooler to get dressed — and four days later, she began to without prompting! (@TheParentVortex)
• Dear Lovey Hart, I am Desperate. — Mommy Soup from Cream of Mommy Soup has several questions for you, from how you play favorites when no one's your favorite to how to tell off strangers curious about the ample size of your family. (@mommysoup)
• Diaper Duty Dilemma — Paige at Baby Dust Diaries has a simple request: talk to her about cloth! (@babydust)
• What Do You Need My Son — pchanner at A Mom's Fresh Start wishes her calm four-month-old hadn't turned into an inquisitive and dramatic six-month-old. How do you handle changes in baby's personality? (@pchanner)
• Dear Natural Parenting Community — Sarah at OneStarryNight wants to know how to respond to criticism from family and friends over breastfeeding. (@starrymom)
• Natural Parenting Carnival — Help — Sarah at Consider Eden feels like either her to-do list or her parenting is suffering, because she can't do both! (@considereden)
• To potty learn or not to potty learn - that is the question — Sheryl at Little Snowflakes wants to know whether it's time to start potty training. (@sheryljesin)
• Seeking Patience — Starr at Earth Mama looks to the collective tribal wisdom of this community to learn how to teach patience to children.
• A Dirty Girl Comes Clean — Tashmica at Mother Flippin' is struggling. How do parents deal with their inability to keep their children protected from danger? (@Mother_Flippin)
• Uli and the Pussy Cats — Thomasin at Propson Palingenesis has a toddler who likes to put kitties in headlocks and ride them like horsies. How best to separate the little beasties?
• Perceptions of Discipline — Zoey at Good Goog doesn't use conventional discipline with her child — and doesn't know how to respond around people who do. (@zoeyspeak)

Join the Kind Conversation

Visit Kind Conversation

Elizabeth Foss has created a space to encourage and to be encouraged.

Won't you join the conversation?

About Kind Conversation (from Elizabeth Foss):

The journey to this post was a long one, a prayerful one, and a surprisingly fruitful one. I have heard you and I have listened. I truly, truly hope I've listened well. Even more, I have heard Him and I have listened. And gosh, I do hope I got that message right:-)!

We've created something for you.

If you want a quiet place to share a vision of rhythm and beauty, holiness and joy,

If you want to talk about the ideas you read here and on Serendipity and in my books,

If you are a woman in search of companions on a journey to God,

come walk with us.

Come if you want to encourage and to be encouraged. Come if you love the Lord and want to dedicate your life to living His vision for you.come if you want to bring His Presence alive in your home.

Come if you have a heart for kind conversation.

Come!

I look forward to seeing you there!

{Registrations will be approved as quickly as possible. Kind Conversation is a private community only visible to registered, approved members.}

Be sure to also read these heartfelt guidelines for Kind Conversation. Even if you don't end up joining the network, Elizabeth's wisdom is good food for thought. Our words are powerful. They can bless, encourage, and teach. But they also can hurt, disparage, and wound - even when our intentions are to do just the opposite. I personally have to be careful with the words I wield. I'm eager to use gentle, hopeful words over at Kind Conversation.

While you're there, consider joining a group I created called Made In God's Image that I hope will help us all to embrace our femininity, motherhood (stretch marks and all) as well as the real beauty traits of a worthy, kind, and spirited Christian woman. Let us help one another pursue emotional, spiritual, and physical health by cherishing and taking care of our bodies rather than chastising them.

You are so much more than the size of your hips.

About the Made In God's Image Group:

During the 2008 celebration of the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary, Pope Benedict XVI reminded women all over the world that the feast was a chance to "contemplate the reflection of the Beauty who saves the world: the beauty of God that shines on the face of Christ." Mary reflects this Beauty, and we should never stop contemplating how we can become more like her in all that we do and say.

This is what I hope we can all encourage one another to do with this group and with our lives - to embrace what God, not society, finds beautiful and worthy.

I look forward to hearing everyone's feedback, comments, inspiration, etc. The topics for this group are endless.

Here are just a few ideas that come to mind:

• Making peace with our bodies
• Raising children with healthy body images
• Feeding our bodies with healthy food and feeding our souls with the Bread of Life
• Pursuing real beauty (the kind of beauty Our Blessed Mother, saints, and other people of goodness and kindness possess)
• Incorporating fitness and healthy eating into our lives as a means of taking care of our bodies - true temples of the Holy Spirit - not just to look a certain way or to squeeze in to our skinny jeans
• Embracing motherhood and the sacrificial and physical signs being a mother leaves on our bodies
• Remembering the adage "age before beauty"
• Overcoming the barrage of unhealthy media messages that tell us we're better if we look a certain (unrealistic!) way
• Sharing chic yet modest and feminine fashion ideas

This is just a start. Thank you for your interest in the Made In God's Image Group, and thank you for joining in on this conversation. I owe many thanks to an e-friend of mine named Cathy Adamkiewicz for encouraging me to put myself out there and starting to talk about this important topic. And, of course, many thanks to Elizabeth Foss for inviting us to engage in kind, uplifting conversations.

God bless you all, and remember you are made in the image of God and that alone makes you beautiful!

Join the kind conversation today, and be sure to spread the word to your friends, family members, and fellow sisters in Christ.

UPDATE: Oh, goody. For those of your who are interested, someone has started an attachment parenting group as well. Blessings!

You Call This a Diet?

When I hit the elliptical trainer, I like to read candy for the mind (as in junk). It's a guilty pleasure and perhaps one I need to give up this Lent and beyond, especially after reading this while flipping through a fashion magazine this weekend: "There's a backlash against diets that don't include food because they just aren't sustainable."

I'm not joking.

Isn't a diet that doesn't include food also known as starvation? And has starvation ever been sustainable?

I know so many women who blame their lack of willpower for not being able to lose those last five pounds or for not being able to maintain their slimmer silhouette after a diet.

I don't blame them at all. I blame diets - or at least the diet mentality that food or certain groups of food are bad, bad, bad.

It is not your weakness that has led you to fail at losing weight or squeezing into those coveted jeans. It is your repeated attempt to diet and to deprive yourself of nourishment. Eat when you're hungry. Stop when you're full. Easier said than done, I know, but give it a try. Listen to your body. Lent is about being mindful. Resolve to be mindful of everything that passes through your lips and remember this: Food is not the enemy. Food is also not your friend although it's so easy to vilify it or use it to soothe emotions frayed with stress or sadness. Don't feed your feelings. Don't complicate the eating process. Food is fuel. Eat wholesome foods. Sometimes eat what you crave, and don't feel guilty about it either. But, please, do eat. Because as someone who waged a war against her body and food for far too long, I have to agree with the fashion magazine on this one: Denying yourself of food just isn't sustainable.

New Column: Beautiful Girls

You can read my new column at Inside Catholic: Beautiful Girls.

And won't you please help deflect some of the negative energy this one has spawned? I just can't win (perhaps I should stop trying). In response to my article, Desiderius (surely a pseudonym) made some good points all the while seeming to miss the meaning behind my words.

She (he?) writes, "I’m really sick of seeing Catholic 'mother martyrs' go online and brag about how noble and unworldly they are for letting the hair on their legs go grey. I’m sure their husbands are enchanted—as enchanted as wives must be at big beer guts and apathy about career advancement, savings, or stewardship."

And then, "telling married women that it is more Christian to neglect their looks implies a contempt for their husbands."

In fact, I agree with her (in part), and I never said anywhere in my column that I want my children to neglect their looks. Perhaps she took the line about beauty being too exhausting to maintain the wrong way. I'm not suggesting we should surrender to sloth or some feminist hoopla that "I don't care what men think. I am lovely just the way I am even with my unkempt hair and smelly pits." On the contrary, I work hard to take care of myself - to exercise and to eat properly and to dress attractively. (And even slice off moles in the process of shaving my legs for goodness' sake - talk about love for your spouse!)

I can remember my mom always sprucing up before my dad returned from work (she still does though she admits to frequently wearing Cubs tees; baseball is her obsession). I do no different (sans the Cubs t-shirt). Even if a day has been particularly harried and I haven't had as much time to devote to grooming as I desire (code for not having showered) I like to give my eyes (my favorite feature) a quick swipe of the mascara because this small gesture goes a long way in helping me to feel bright-eyed and lovely both for my husband and myself. Personally, I have to be more careful about not being too vain and getting too wrapped up in "lookism." In fact, my husband often gets frustrated with me because he sees me as desirable and that should be enough.

The point I was attempting to make over at Inside Catholic is that I want to encourage my girls to reclaim the beauty of creation - not conform to some unrealistic standard of beauty that's dictated by the media. God created us to be fertile and womanly, not stick-thin, expression-less, Botox-y, fabricated beauties. Likewise, I want my children to recognize that the health and beauty of their souls is more worthy of their attention and energy than fretting over their physical appearance, which has no eternal value.

Also, I want to make it clear that eating disorders have little to do with beauty or even wanting to look a certain way. They may start out as a means of slimming down, but they become an external and measurable scale of self-worth that offer a means of coping with fears and insecurities. Mine was primarily about being in control. I want to teach my girls to fill up on the Lord rather than turning to weight or improving their looks as a way to fill a void in their lives. I want to help them recognize Truth and beauty and these, I believe, can be found in Our Blessed Mother. Hence, my reasoning for writing the article.

So what do you think? Go mosey on over there and chime in with your own thoughts of how we can achieve real beauty. It's an important discussion.

*As a footnote: Forgive me, dear readers, for ranting about a topic quite similar to my most recent Faith & Family LIVE! feature on banishing postpartum body blues. As a mom to three girls, I frequently find myself thinking about body image and beauty and finding a balance between caring for ourselves and not becoming obssessive about our looks. My thoughts, not surprisingly, often pop up in my columns and on this blog. I didn't realize, however, that these two bits of writing would be published so close together. Hey, at least I'm not babbling again about my primary obsession (sleep or lack thereof).

Loving Your Postpartum Body

I'm over at Faith & Family LIVE! today writing about a topic I'm passionate about: How real moms can come to terms with their postpartum bodies stretch marks and all.

I always love hearing from readers, so I'll see you over there!

Will Eat for Baby

It’s still dark outside. I’ve just nursed the baby and I should be in bed, trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep before my older children wake me up. Instead I sneak into my bathroom and step on the scale with trepidation.

Will it be my friend or foe this morning?

It takes a few seconds for the digital number to appear. I stare at it and then step off the scale. I tell myself I have to let it go, that the number on the scale is irrelevant to my happiness.

I return to bed and watch my sleeping baby’s form. Her eyelids briefly flicker open and I see a sliver of blue. She sighs. Her tiny fist unfurls to reveal her perfect hand and her arm jerks. She folds into me and I feel her heat against my body. I love her so deeply, and I am thankful for this love. Sometimes I think it's my love for my children that keeps me from falling off the edge again, to succumbing to disordered eating as I've done in the past.

I recently stumbled across Deuteronomy 25:18-19 and recognized that vigilance is imperative during this exhausting point in my life. The passage reads: “He harassed you along the way, weak and weary as you were, and cut off at the rear all those who lagged behind."

When I’m exhausted, I’m more likely to cave in to past temptations. When I am weary, I let my guard down and allow the relics of my eating disorder to creep back into my life. It's all too easily to fall into old habits, to let demons of the past haunt me and lure me in.

Every day is a struggle for me. Whenever I feel hunger pangs deep inside of me, I have to tell myself I must eat if not for my own nourishment than for my baby who needs my body to have enough energy to feed her.

I always worry when I bring up my struggles with body angst. People don’t understand, especially since I don't look like I have a weight problem (though I certainly do have a type of weight problem). Even my own husband can't understand it. "You're beautiful," he says. But it's not about beauty. My weight is not about how I look or even how my jeans fit. For me, it’s about being in control. It's about having a quantifiable means of measuring my worth.

My nights are unpredictable and so, too, are most of my days. When I slip between the sheets each night, I never know when the baby will wake up to nurse or how long I will have to hold her upright after each feeding so that the gurgling and the wet hiccups will no longer cause her pain (and keep me awake). I don’t know when my older children will need me – when my day will begin or how it will unfold. I can have a plan in mind, but it can slowly begin to unravel with an unexpected crying jag (from the baby or me), a sibling sprawl over a once-forgotten stuffed animal that has swiftly taken the center stage as the number one toy to have in your possession, or a spilled smoothie seeping into our carpet.

In short, in my fatigue and my dicey days and even dicier nights, I feel powerless. I cannot control the number of hours (minutes!) I spend in REM. I cannot always control my children’s behavior, try as I might. I do not know when (or if) my husband will be home from work to offer support.

But how much I eat, the delightful downward trend of the scale – these are areas of my life in which I can wield complete control. I can whip my body into submission and deprive myself of calories. If I eat too much or the number on the scale gets stuck at an “unreasonable” number, I can always take certain purgative measures (skip breakfast, exercise for longer and harder) to compensate. When I feel lacking as a mother, there's one area I know I can master; I used to be very good at controlling my weight.

Not that I subscribe to the unhealthy habits of my past. I try not to weigh myself very often at all; I resist losing weight unless it's done the healthy way. But I am faced with the temptation to start obsessing over calories and the number on the scale nearly every day.

But then I hear my baby cry. Or my toddler reaches up to me with her deliciously chubby arms and says, “Pick me up, Mommy.” Or my preschooler challenges me to a game of tag. And I know I must eat if not for myself then for the children who need me – all of me – to feed them, hold them, chase them and most importantly, to teach them that their own bodies are temples deserving of respect and honor.

When I begin to notice every inch of flesh, the way it moves when I move. Or when I am tempted obsess over every bite that passes my lips, I tell myself that I need to be strong. I need to fuel my body and not punish it. I need to remember that pursuing thinness has no eternal value at all, but raising children does. And I remind myself that God is in me. He dwells in this body of mine.

I cannot wish away this cross I bear. For a long time, that's what I've tried to do - to forget that I ever had an eating disorder. In fact, not so long ago I wrote to a friend who was struggling with her body image that I used to see myself as weak for not being able to completely rid myself of this inner turmoil. However, what has helped me is knowing that this is a cross I'll likely have for the rest of my life. It's one I must accept and embrace. Much like a recovered or dry alcoholic, I've come to see that I can be physically recovered but that I face an ongoing process of restoration. I'm always working to detach myself from my unhealthy thoughts and to attach myself completely to God. Only then will his love and power for healing have the ability to take hold of my life.

So I will eat for my baby, but I’ll also eat for myself and for the God who created me and loves every postpartum, soft inch of me.

Personal Waste Removal

My most recent post at In God's Image.

Pregnant Photo

To Anon who said my photo will make everyone feel bad about themselves, I'm feeling really guilty. This was not my intention. Trust me. In fact, I work hard to be an advocate for women feeling healthy and strong.

To me, I look pregnant (you've never seen how I look not pregnant, I'm assuming). I've gained a healthy 20 pounds so far and to be fair, I did spend 28 weeks throwing up. I shouldn't be defensive, I know. But the last thing I want to do is to make other women feel badly about how they look. Really.

If you'll peruse my body image archives, you'll see that I once suffered from an eating disorder. I have to work at being healthy and not letting my weight take control of my life (pregnancy is a particularly challenging time for me). I don't expect others to understand, but I do ask that they do not judge me or anyone else based on how we look pregnant or otherwise.

Of course, I'm the one who put the picture out there, so now I have to deal with the consequences.

I just do want to apologize to anyone whom I made feel badly by posting a pregnant photo. Again, this certainly was not my intention. I've always loved that quote from Charlotte's Web (it's scribbled down in one of my journals, and my oldest daughter and I just read the book together for the first time), and it just seemed so fitting now that my family is waiting for our miracle to hatch. (Plus, my preschooler is a budding photographer and has been bugging me incessantly to take pictures of the "baby" and me.)

Comparing Our Crosses

A few years ago my mom said something I've never forgotten.

When I was in the thick of treatment for my eating disorder, she was shouldering her own share of burdens - ones that were completely out of her control.

Out of the blue one day, I burst into tears and said something like, "Why do you have this cross to bear when the only cross I'm bearing is one I've made for myself?"

She gave me a hug and told me to never, never compare crosses, that what may not be a cross for one person at all might be a heavy burden for someone else.

Her wisdom has been monopolizing my thoughts a lot lately ever since I read what I felt was a thoughtful, encouraging post by Danielle Bean over Faith & Family Live about the things she hates about diets and her follow-up post entitled Weighty Matters where she attempted to explain that she wasn't suggesting that diets are inherently bad, but that they do have a tendency to promote self-loathing and/or poor body image for many women who would be considered thin, overweight or somewhere in between.

What’s been bothering me, or making me sad, really, after I read the ensuing comments and reactions from other bloggers to both posts has very little to do with weight. It has to do with assuming too much based on someone’s appearance or what a person writes about dieting or their own challenges with weight loss and/or body image. It has to do with undermining others' inner struggles - whether they're thin, overweight, been on 17 diets, never been on a diet in their life, have had to lose or gain weight for the sake of their health, etc.

In the comments section, I left my own personal observations on diets and alluded to my eating disordered past. Frankly, it has taken me a long time to openly discuss my body angst. But in recent years I’ve come to a place where I'm no longer so secretive or ashamed about my struggles with my body image and disordered eating. If someone doesn’t seem to understand the psychology of an eating disorder, I try to not take it personally.

It's my hope that maybe, just maybe, talking about my own personal cross will help someone else either by making theirs lighter or preventing them from ever having to carry this same cross.

So it's disheartening when others are quick to discount what I or anyone else deals with when it comes to their weight and body image or any other aspect of life. Or to take someone's words completely out of context (and I'm not referring to my own comments but again to Danielle's original post and some of the other comments by women who described themselves as both thin or overweight).

It’s very tempting to simply “size people up” based on their weight, appearance, or on whether the word “diet” makes them think of healthy triumph, an enduring struggle, mindful eating, deprivation, or an unhealthy preoccupation with weight.

But again, this isn’t really about weight.

We make assumptions about people all of the time that have nothing to do with their body weight. In the “real world,” we’re better at keeping the judgments we make at face value to ourselves either on the basis of just being tactful or because we try to give people the benefit of the doubt and aim to get to know people first before assigning labels to them.

However, I’ve found that in the Blogosphere we often jump to unfair conclusions with regrettable alacrity. When we drop a comment in combox, there’s little room for impulse control. We have no time to bite our tongues. We click “submit” or "send" and our words are out there.

It’s far easier to attack, criticize people, and/or undermine their personal battles when you don’t have to look them in the eye. That’s one of the reasons why people gossip and back-stab; it’s also why, I suspect, people get overly defensive, personal, or hurtful in their blog commentary. We don’t really “know” the person we’re disparaging, so it’s not personal for us anyway. But I’ve been the target of barbed remarks (I’m not referring to the post at Faith & Family Live) from cyber “strangers,” and as much as I try to let it go, it can still hurt.

Whether we meet someone in-person or in Cyberspace, we really have no insight into their interior life, the inner demons they battle, what they’ve been through, what haunts them at night, what conversations they have with God. We’re oftentimes not even aware of the innermost struggles of our closest loved ones, so how can we begin to think we know someone from reading her blog post or comments?

Take my mom again. She’s beautiful. She’s happy. She’s a dedicated wife, mom, and volunteer. She lives on the lake and goes on frequent beach vacations. She’s been married for almost 38 years to her high school sweetheart.

She’s got it all, right?

It certainly would be easy to think her life is perfect and she’s the first one to say she’s very, very blessed. But things haven't always been easy-peasy for her. For one thing, she's a lifelong, die-hard Cubs' fan. Talk about constant letdowns, disappointment and angst.

No, seriously. She lost her biological dad when she was 3, her mom when she 16, and the man she considered a father when she was 26.

She was diagnosed with what doctors thought was a form of arthritis in her twenties and was unable to pick up her baby (my younger brother) for weeks at a time.

Since then, she’s been diagnosed with a rare neuromuscular disorder with no cure or real treatment protocol (or support group).

She rarely talks about her health woes and never complains. Doctors, even her own family (me!) forget or overlook that she lives with chronic pain because she’s not depressed, because she loves life, because she looks healthy.

But as her daughter, I’ve caught a glimpse into her interior life, and what you see isn’t always what you get. Just because she doesn’t look burdened doesn’t mean she’s not carrying a cumbersome cross.

I don’t share this to glean sympathy. I asked my mom's permission to share her health history because she’s very private about it and the last thing she wants is pity. As a Eucharistic Minister to the homebound and a former hospice volunteer, she’s always quick to point out that her cross is nothing more than a sliver compared to others' and that so many people are much worse off than she is. But, then, she’s not taking her own advice.

Let’s be careful not to compare crosses. (I need to work on this as much as the next person.) Let’s not give meaning to overweight and thin people or anyone who seems different from us. Let’s not assume that all rich or beautiful or successful people have it easy and are happy. On the same token, we shouldn’t presume someone who appears to have a hard life isn’t happy.

We're here to help lighten the burden for others, not scoff at their crosses or conversely, treat them with pity like that toothpick on their back is an oak tree.

We must work to “see” beyond others’ appearance, what they write on a blog, or how happy (or unhappy) they appear to us. We must strive to recognize the dignity of every human person and acknowledge that we all have our own personal crosses to carry. As Christians, we’re called to crucify our temptation to judge with Christ and to instead, look at all people through God’s eyes, a lens of love.

Book Meme

I am a Meme slacker and rule-breaker. My apologies. But this one from Ebeth (thanks for thinking of me!) was intriguing to a bibliophile like myself. Too bad I'm not reading something really profound like St. Augustine's Confessions like I and surely most moms of young kids, of course, usually do.

I'm juggling several books right now, but I decided to feature a book that's on my nightstand that I actually first read in college and have revisited several times since. It's Making Peace with Food by Susan Kano and out of the slew of books on eating disorders and body image I've read I found it to be one of the most helpful.

Now without further ado, I'm supposed to turn to page 56 and write down the fifth sentence as well as a few sentences following it, so here goes:

"You can decide when to exercise in advance, put that time aside in your schedule, and avoid constantly asking yourself, 'Shall I exercise today or not?'

If you stop exercising for a long period of time, there is no need to feel guilty. It happens to everyone, and feeling bad about it is unproductive. Remember that you are still the same person you were while exercising - lack of exercise has made you less fit, not less worthy. Just as eating poorly does not make you a 'bad' person. Ideally, you should handle it in the same way most people who love to be active handle it: mildly regret that you haven't been enjoying the fun and mental relaxation you had been enjoying and go back to it as soon as you can."

Now I'm going to cheat and include a passage I highlighted way down on this page just because it's something competitive, little me needs to be reminded of (yes, I admit I have been that crazy preggo lady on the elliptical trainer at the gym who's racing the dude in the spandex shorts next to me to see who can pump their arms and move their legs the fastest):

"Do not fall into the trap of pushing yourself so hard that you push yourself away from the fun of exercise."

Just in case you're wondering: Maniacal elliptical training doesn't really fall into the fun category.

I shared this post over at In God's Image, too since it speaks directly to the blog's body image theme.

Growing Pains

This post was originally published over at In God's Image, a blog that explores the intersection of faith and fitness. If you're looking for more ways to love the body that's made in God's image, not the media's, then be sure to check out this positive body image blog.

I'm almost 20-weeks pregnant with my third child (that's me pregnant with my second bambino), so I'm supposed to be gaining weight. This is the sign of a healthy baby. I know all this, but it doesn't mean it's easy-peasy for me to watch my waistline disappear and to see that number on the scale steadily rise every couple of weeks.

I wish I were one of those preggos who felt like a hot mama during pregnancy. When I became pregnant with my first, I eagerly stocked up on black Lycra tops that would hug my bump. (Think Angelina Joile.) I envisioned myself embracing the whole fertile goddess image. But eight months into my pregnancy I felt like I looked more like a Killer Whale than Angelina in my slinky, black tops (even though others said I looked small; like most women, I'm my own worst critic). While I'm always certainly thankful to be pregnant (or at least to be having another baby), I often find myself mourning my old body at some point during the nine-month journey.

I doubt I'm alone in my feelings of body angst during pregnancy. Even though many women don't share my eating disorder history, it's not most women's idea of fun to pack on the pounds.

For me, seeing my body give way to a softer, fuller form really is a constant struggle. I do have days where I find respite from my body hatred. I'm more focused on growing this beautiful baby (as I always should be), but I've admittedly found that this pregnancy has been tougher than my others and that I've had more bad days than good.

Maybe it's because God was the only one who planned this pregnancy (whereas my first two I'd been eager to conceive and was using natural family planning to do just that). I suppose I wasn't ready to relinquish control, and that's what it's really about for me: Control. When I'm not pregnant, I know - as unhealthy as this sounds - that I can skip a meal or push myself hard during a workout and make that scale budge in the direction I want it to (not that I act on these impulses since being "recovered," but it's in the knowing that I can that somehow makes me feel less anxious).

But when I'm pregnant, I have a baby depending on me. I have a growing little one who needs nourishment and needs me to fuel my body with healthy food, even when I'm feeling nauseous or gross. I have to surrender to the scale and allow that number to climb.

This is why, I've realized, that pregnancy is so good for me. It's always a challenge, but it forces me to stop focusing on my weight, the way I look in my jeans (there's no such thing as skinny jeans when you're a preggo), and to stop being such an idiotic control freak.

I have also found that there are certain measures I can take to help me to better appreciate my new bod. (And, whether you're pregnant or not, I think some of these tips can be helpful for anyone hoping to overcome body image problems.)

So, my friends, here are some simple ways to help you love your preggo bod and to get over those growing pains:

• Get moving. I've made an effort to exercise throughout all of my pregnancies (except, of course, when I was on bedrest for three weeks with my second). I've found that exercising – moving a little bit every day despite the fatigue or nausea – makes me feel not only healthier but also more comfortable with my new shape. Aside from those exercise endorphins, maybe my elevated self-esteem has to do with the fact that I'm doing something healthy for my baby and for me. Plus, regular prenatal exercise has been shown to boost energy levels, help prepare moms-to-be for childbirth (the biggest "workout" of your life!), relieve stress, and may even help women bounce back to their pre-pregnancy figure. I do a lot of walking and also try to do some prenatal yoga and Pilates. Just be sure to get the green light from your OB/GYN or midwife before you start (or even continue) a prenatal fitness routine.
  
  
• Shun the scale. My current midwife is amazing. I was very upfront with her when I was pregnant with my second. I explained that I struggle with gaining weight during pregnancy and that it's not even really about what the scale says. I divulged my eating disorder history, and I asked her if we could just not make my weight an issue unless it was posing a risk for my baby because I was gaining too much or too little. She has been so sensitive with my previous and current pregnancy. At some appointments, she tells me I don't even have to step on the scale. Not knowing an exact number has been very liberating for me. Instead of fretting over my weight, I can just enjoy being pregnant and focus on taking care of my growing baby.
  
  Whether you're pregnant or not, try freeing yourself from the scale. Weighing yourself once a week is reasonable, but don't make it an everyday thing and, never forget that your self-worth is so much more than a number on a scale or a clothing size.
  
  
• Accentuate the positive. Sure, varicose veins, puffy ankles and a behemoth bottom (I always get a bigger bum than tummy) are no fun, but what about the positive changes pregnancy brings like a curvier bod? Why not embrace your femininity? Don’t go for the frumpy look, and avoid anything that looks remotely like a tent. Go for modest but chic looks. I’m very thankful that maternity clothing is so cute and fashionable these days, and I try to not “hide” the fact that I’ve been blessed with another baby.
  
  
• Celebrate your pregnancy. Okay, I’m really not the artsy-fartsy type, but I did something really cool during my first pregnancy after I wrote an article about an artist who transforms women’s fertile forms into pieces of art. This was completely out of character and frankly, it made me nervous, but I agreed to have a cast done of my torso when I was eight months pregnant. Elizabeth Barnes of Artful Expectations was the artist who cast my belly and then painted it to look like Ivy, my parents’ yellow Lab. (Sounds a little strange, I know, but this pup-belly ended up being the perfect artwork for my daughter’s room since she's crazy about Ivy.)
  
  When I saw what my body actually looked like housing a baby (rather than scrutinizing it using the carnival mirror in my head that has a tendency to distort how I see my body), I realized that my pregnant form was absolutely beautiful and that my baby, as cheesy as this may sound, was a piece of art my husband and I had co-created with God. If that doesn’t break the funny mirror in my mind, I don’t know what will.
  
  If a belly cast isn’t an option, why not ask your husband to take photos of your pregnant bod? I've always been envious of women who showcase their belly shots throughout pregnancy; I've never been brave enough to do that, but maybe someday I'll get to that place. As it stands, I too often avoid the camera when I’m pregnant; yet, I know that down the road I’m going to want to see pictures of me carrying my children. In fact, I didn’t like the photo above when it was taken when I was about seven months pregnant, but now it’s one of my favorite snapshots. I love how my older daughter's hand is on my belly and how I’m not recoiling from her touch. We both look so content, and it's clear we were celebrating a new life together. The bottom line is having a baby – accommodating not one but two souls in the temple of your body – is always worth celebrating.
  
  
• Forget about those pre-baby jeans. After giving birth, you’ll be slightly thinner, but don’t expect to look like Heidi Klum. Most normal women – as in all of us who don’t have the luxury of personal trainers, nutritionists and chefs at our service – should expect to look about five months pregnant after delivery. Cut yourself some slack and focus on motherhood.
  
  Besides, even if you never fit into those skinny jeans again, who really cares? As moms, we should have a whole new appreciation for our bodies after we deliver and often nurse a baby. I know I did. I never feel as amazing or empowered as I do after I give birth and when my milk first comes in. I’m lucky because I haven’t yet experienced baby blues in my early postpartum days. It’s more like baby mania. I feel so gloriously happy to have a new child and also in awe of my body that not only grew a baby but was also able to get the child out on its own and then feed it. I am Mommy. Hear me roar!
  
  
• Pray. I have some really tough days when I’m pregnant, days when I hate my body, days when I’m tempted to take drastic, unhealthy measures to be in control of the scale. There are days when I take my baby and my body for granted. When I’m feeling particularly vulnerable, I meditate on Jesus’ words: “This is my body and it has been given up for you.” And isn’t that really what we do as moms whether we're ever blessed enough to physically carry and/or nurse a child or not? Every time we embrace another pregnancy, nurse a child, hold a toddler until our arms ache, drag ourselves out of bed to comfort a frightened child, or even play a game of catch with our kids, we’re employing our bodies to be mothers. Really, how can we not love our bodies, knowing that we're using them in exactly the way God intended?
  
  

Taking Candy from the Baby

Over at In God's Image, I share some thoughts on teaching healthy eating habits to kids and how I plan to deal with the piles of Halloween candy that have invaded our home.

"Halloween and its association with sweets in excess is tough for a mom like me. As someone who has struggled with an eating disorder and makes an effort every single day to teach my kids to be at peace with their bodies and to practice what’s known as mindful eating – eat when they’re hungry, don’t eat when they’re not, I find the readily available heap of goodies puts me in a bit of a quandary. I want my kids to enjoy their treats without feeling guilty, but I don’t want them to fill up on so much junk that they stop eating healthier foods until they have eaten their way through their sweet stash."

Read the rest here.

Wisdom from Yoda

I recently wrote this post over at In God's Image where Cathy Adamkiewicz and I explore the intersection of faith, fitness, and body image and thought I would share it here as well.

Okay, so you're probably thinking: "What could George Lucas's great Jedi Master possibly have to do with faith, body image, or fitness?"

More than you might think.

No, I'm not a Star Wars junkie (I did not dress up like Princess Leia to go see any of the movies nor do I own a lightsaber), but I've always liked Yoda and the wisdom he imparts. Plus, who doesn't like to see a little guy use some serious Force to kick the tails of some pretty big and fierce enemies?

Recently, I stumbled across a Yodaism that immediately made me think of how we place far too much emphasis on appearance. Yoda wisely says, "Judge me by my size do you? And well you should not!"

Looking at this little green, old guy with pointy ears and wiry white hair springing from his wrinkled head, you wouldn't immediately think, "Now there's a great warrior!" But that's exactly what Yoda is.

Society has taught us to assume so much based on appearance. It's easy to "size people up" just by looking at them. We assume beautiful people are happy. We assume tall, lean people are athletes. We give meaning to fat and thin people. Slender, attractive men and women are always successful and popular. Whereas too often people conclude that overweight people lack confidence or perhaps self-control.

What we're doing even more than jumping to unfair conclusions is seeing people not as human beings but as objects. The Catholic Church is very clear about the dignity of the human person and that we must recognize each person's worth - from the unborn child to the disabled adult.

It would be unwise for any enemy to see Yoda as old and weak and to judge him by his small stature. Likewise, we must not turn people into objects; we must "see" beyond appearance and not draw conclusions based on how a person looks or dresses.

Judge others by their appearance? Well we should not. Instead, we must look at people through Christ's eyes, a lens of love. Then and only then will we begin to recognize that everyone has worth and everyone is beautiful.

Achieving Real Beauty

Over at In God's Image, I recently wrote about my reluctance with having my daughters grow up to be beautiful women. I explained why:

“I've seen too many unhappy, beautiful girls to think it's something we should want (just think of so many of the Hollywood starlets who seem to have it all and end up in drug rehab programs or in an endless game of marriage roulette or with eating disorders). It's too exhausting to maintain beauty. Once you have it (or society says you do), you cling to it, thinking it's all you've got. Once you hit a size 0, you think that's what you have to stay to be anything (ironic isn't it that a size 0 used to be my favorite size because it made me feel like I was important when that number means an absence of anything). "

Then, later in the week, I was perusing an old prayer journal where I’d scribbled down “Canticle of Mary” and beside it the words “achieving real beauty.” This intrigued me. I read the Canticle of Mary or Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55), and the first and perhaps most famous lines jumped out at me: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

I’ve always thought of Mary as beautiful. But it’s not because she wears flashy clothes, has lustrous hair and flawless skin, or a perfect body. It’s because her soul – her entire being – proclaims the greatness of the Lord. She is what every woman should strive to be: pious, humble, gentle but strong, feminine and blessed.

Once my preschooler was gazing up at a statue of Our Lady when she said, “Mommy, isn’t she pretty?”

“Yes,” I said. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.

So I stand corrected. I do want my girls to be beautiful. As beautiful and lovely and worthy of roses as Mary.

Next Time You're Feeling Fat...

Consider this: Women used to be chastised for being too thin. We just can't win if we start trying to look like what society deems as "beautiful" instead of focusing on being healthy.

And while we're on the subject of body image, I shared some of my thoughts on the subject and my personal struggle with an eating disorder over at In God's Image.

An excerpt:

"One in five women is purported to have a clinically diagnosed eating disorder. They’re the ones everyone wants to help. But what about the millions of women who feel like failures because they eat bread (and other “bad” carbs) and aren’t Auschwitz-thin? Or all the prepubescent girls who are on a diet right now? What about the college student who lives off beer, cigarettes and laxatives interspersed with an occasional meal? Are they not sick as well?

Frankly, I’m tired of the term 'eating disorder.' Many women will never vomit every day (or ever) or starve themselves to the point of emaciation. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have a problem. The obsession with all the media figures who have personal trainers, cooks and their share of eating problems is taking its toll most women. It’s rare to find a woman who loves her body (all the time, not just when she’s on a diet), unless perhaps she’s sucked out the fat, tucked the tummy and taken a knife to her breasts to boost her cup size. (Research suggests that media idealize a female body that only one percent of woman can hope to biologically attain.)"

Read the rest here.