“It’s probably a good idea to let Liam have some space for now,” I overhear my son Noah saying to his father from the next room. “He’s in a really bad mood. I poked him just a little and he picked me up and tossed me.”
While not encouraged, these displays of surprising strength aren’t unusual in our home. Typically, the boys get along quite well. We’ve had countless conversations—likely to continue indefinitely—about the importance of managing their actions, especially when they’re feeling angry, frustrated, or humiliated and tempted to lash out.
Growing up, I was surrounded by girls—sisters, cousins, and a close-knit group of friends. I can’t recall every detail, but I’m certain that no one ever expressed their feelings by physically tossing someone.
Girls tend to showcase a different type of aggression, one articulated through sharp, seemingly kind words and subtle glances that can inflict deep emotional wounds. While nothing may be physically broken, the scars can run deep.
I was particularly sensitive to certain topics during my formative years. Discussions about weight and body image were frequently weaponized in female circles. I had friends who were stealthy with their remarks.
My best friend in eighth grade and I often exchanged dieting tips, meticulously comparing notes and stepping on each other’s scales to verify accuracy, trying on various outfits to see how they influenced our weight.
One afternoon, while weighing myself, I noticed her eyebrow raise slightly. The numbers fluctuated like a warning signal. “I would’ve thought that number would be higher for someone your height,” she remarked. BOOM. I was caught off guard, a casualty of her words.
“Interesting,” I replied, attempting to maintain my composure.
We never discussed fitness or nutrition; our conversations revolved around how many meals we could skip and tactics to stave off hunger.
In my household today, conversations about body weight or self-image are rare with my boys. I sense they don’t dwell too much on these topics, and honestly, they shouldn’t.
Instead, we focus on food. With various allergies to navigate, I aim to cater to everyone while not turning into a short-order chef. So, the dinner menu is a frequent discussion point.
Exercise is also important. Their dad and I run regularly, and depending on the season, the boys alternate between swimming, skiing, and kicking a soccer ball around. We talk about foods that fuel their sports endeavors and those that might lead to lethargy or allergy-induced asthma attacks.
We also discuss how their tastes are evolving as they grow up and encourage them to try foods they once disliked, pointing out that their palates may have changed. We discuss their pickiness, which drives me up the wall, and we analyze what goes into chicken nuggets, cautioning that a diet of solely white, starchy foods can lead to health issues.
But we never, ever talk about weight.
Recently, I heard an argument brewing between the boys. I hesitated to intervene at first; normally, I prefer not to get involved unless someone is injured or bothering me. But this time was different.
This time, one of them called the other “fatty.” That was it; I realized I had my own personal Hulk issues. When “Mama Hulk” emerges, it’s because someone has insulted a loved one’s body, and I transformed from a calm mom to a raging, green monster in an instant.
“You do not call your brother FAT! You don’t call ANYBODY FAT. Do you HEAR ME?” (Not verbatim, of course—expletives may have escaped my lips. It happens.)
“Uh, okay, Mom.” They looked stunned by my reaction. What was the deal? No one had even been thrown.
Later, as we sat in the car, the atmosphere was calmer. A perfect opportunity to address body image and explain my Hulk moment.
I shared with them how I felt at their age—how feelings of inadequacy shaped my self-perception for years. I discussed the long journey to value my body for its capabilities rather than the numbers on clothing tags.
After a moment of silence, Colin piped up from the back seat, “We don’t think we’re fat, Mom. That’s just something we say.”
Clearly, I had overanalyzed the situation. What? I have my own baggage here.
“I’m still going to call you a turd bucket, Colin,” Liam quipped, grinning. “Because some days, you really are.”
“Go for it,” Colin replied. “I’m just gonna punch you right in the face.”
In the world of parenting, it’s essential to foster healthy conversations around food and body image while remaining vigilant about the language we use. For more insights on managing these discussions, check out this excellent resource on infertility and home insemination. And if you’re looking for tools to assist on your journey, consider checking out this fertility booster for men that can be a game changer.
In summary, navigating the complexities of body image in parenting is crucial. While it’s important to encourage healthy habits, open communication about feelings and self-perception can foster a supportive environment for our children.
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