Thursday, October 27, 2011

Wish I Had a Better Solution




Georgia thinks that this will help end Childhood Obesity.

Maybe it will.

I admit that I may be a wee sensitive on this issue. 

I was a fat kid.  But unlike Bobby's Mom, my mom isn't fat.

Oddly enough, I am fat like Bobby's mom but my kids aren't fat.

There is no question that being fat increases your children's chances of being fat.

I am aware of that EVERY DAY, which is a big reason why my family is so focused on my workout and weight*fucking*watchers regimen.  

I'm all about celebrating the gifts of fat, but fat is one gift I'd rather not pass to my kids.

When I watch the above video, and I see the mom's dejected sigh, my heart breaks for her.

And then there is that charming tag line: Stop Sugar Coating it Georgia. 

Oh I get it.  Sugar.  Because fat people like Sugar.  And High Fructose Corn Syrup.  And Molasses.  mmmmmm.

When I watch that video, I don't hear Bobby's cute voice asking "Mom, why am I fat?"

I hear a mean kid saying "Hey Fatty!  Your kids are fat because you're so fat, Fatty.  So stop being so fat you big fat Fatso!"

I kinda think that's what Bobby's mom heard too.  Because she sure looks like someone hurt her.  It hurts Bobby's mom that he is fat too.  She didn't want that for him.

But she doesn't know what to do about it.

She knows he needs to be more active.  She knows he needs to get a lot more exercise.

She just doesn't know how to make that happen.

She buys healthy food, but she also has snacks in the house.  Sometimes she doesn't buy snacks.  But if there is nothing snacky in the house, she seems to drive through McDonald's a lot more.

Bobby is at school most of the day, then after care.  She picks him up at 5:30 or 6:00, which is the earliest she can get away from the office.  Her husband has started dinner, but he just got back from the office, so he makes a pan of frozen lasagna.  They eat it with a salad.  But Bobby won't eat his lettuce.  They argue, and finally he eats some of his salad. Bobby is still hungry after dinner, so they let him have another piece of lasagna.  They figure it's better than giving him dessert.  They don't always eat dessert at their house.  Weekends usually.

By the time dinner is over, dishes are washed, homework is done. . . it's dark.  Too dark to go out to play.  Plus, dad is so tired.  So he and Bobby play a couple of video games before bath and bed.

Bobby's mom knows the family needs to do SOMETHING about their health.

She knows.

And then the State of Georgia calls her son a big fat fatty and tells her that Bobby is a fatso because she is a fat ugly whale.  At least, that's what I heard.  And then they say "Oh, we don't mean to be unkind, but you are fat and so is your kid and we don't like it.  Fatso."

Hope it helps, Georgia. 

You fucking inbred rednecks.

5 comments:

  1. I'm crying. You hit a nerve. Ouch. :(
    I'm still learning to love myself IN SPITE oF my fluff. This is how I talk to myself in my own head. To see it in writing and know that I'm not the only one...
    Wow.
    -Sarah

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  2. I was fat as a kid and heard a lot of those hurtful Fatso comments. I still have to watch what I eat even though at 53 I shouldn't have to care anymore.
    None of my three brothers or my sister are fat.
    My mother wasn't fat and my father wasn't fat (although he was a fatHEAD).
    Don't know why, but I can still hear those taunts.

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  3. Ma'am. I'm usually quite tolerant of all that you write. Heck, I even agree on a lot of points. Especially the fat issue that you've touched on here. I've read your blog all the way through because of this and I love it but some of that love stops a little with that last line.

    I was born and raised and still live in Georgia. I'm a size 22 and yes, no one is real kind about that here but neither are they anywhere else. They have their heart in the right place sometimes but often go about it the wrong way.

    I'm aware that cutting the sugar and such won't fix things and we do go about things in an odd way here but that's still no reason to call us inbred rednecks. Guess what other insult we hear growing up here? Guess what hurts just as much as all the teasing for being fat?

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  4. @Anon -- you're right. I was lashing back in kind -- it is a childish thing to say. Sorry I insulted you.

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  5. Ummm wow. My kids aren't fat either, though I am. Another stereotype? That I sit on my ass. That must be what my size means.
    I'd love to lose weigt to be more healty for my kids, but I don't feel that my life is lacking because I have some extra pounds onboard. I just don't look like what I would like to. But guess what? I'm a good person. I do noble work. I love my husband and children, and they love me.

    Georgia totally forgot to include that Bobby's hugs from his fat mom are probably a lot warmer and huggier than ones he would get from a skinny one. Just sayin'.

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