Fat, 1400 Puzzle Pieces, and “Mommy”

Fat, 1400 Puzzle Pieces, and “Mommy”

I was going to write a post on a recent self-learning after trying to teach my two younger kiddos about pointing out physical characteristics about other people, including size. In fumbling over my answers (which I wanted to take back after they came out of my mouth), it hit me that on some level, I’m still equating large/fat with bad, a moral failing, something that should be fixed, and the like. Ouch. I thought I’d moved beyond that. Okay — point noticed, Robin. I’ll sit with this for a while. Perhaps more another day.

Now, as I’ve moved farther into the day, it strikes me that I feel like writing about my kids and experience mothering. My two youngest are locking each other out of rooms right now. May all of their fingers and toes stay intact. I’m also wondering if they’ll get back to the 1400 puzzle pieces currently strewn on the living room floor that they insisted on getting out.

Being a mother has highlighted my strengths and best; it’s also shoved my weaknesses and worst in my face so I couldn’t not see them. I’ve grown in ways I’d never imagined. Perhaps one of the things I’m most proud of is that it’s helping me leave a lot of judgment at the door. Truly, different strokes work for different folks. I’m getting that more and more (and when I forget and look out from my glass house, something comes up to bring me back).

I’ve encountered situations and conversations I never considered I’d be having. I can now say that by a hair, I’d rather clean up poop than vomit. I’m very comfortable saying “penis,” “vagina,” “vulva,” and “sex”. I’ve also now heard my new name (“Mommy” or some variation) more times than Robin.

All three children push and challenge me in different ways. Sometimes I feel like running away, though I know if I ever did, I’d most likely come back. I’d miss it all too much. The good times, laughter, and hugs far outweigh the tough ones.

And being a mother was probably the top factor that saved my life — from eating disorders, alcohol, and depression. My kids may never know the depth of my gratitude and appreciation for this.

As we near Mother’s Day, to all who hold mothering roles (now, in the past, or in the future), I salute you on your journey and wish you the happiest of days. You are seen and loved.

Grumpy face and missing teeth — yup, where we’re at right now

Aside from my age (he’s got me a year younger), he is spot on!

One of my favorite photos

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