One very saddened momma...

The other day I encountered what I believe is one of the most heart-wrenching moments a mom of a little girl can have. My sweet and usually very chatty baby girl (I say baby girl, because that is what she will always be to me!, but she is 6 years old, so not exactly a baby anymore) was uncharacteristically quiet and pensive after school one afternoon.  I asked her what was wrong, and got this ache in the pit of my stomach as the tears starting spilling out of those sad green eyes.  It didn't take her long to spit out that she "needed to go on a diet, and she was really sad about it."

I tried to wipe the incredulousness off my face and attempt to regain my composure before asking…no insisting she tell me what on earth gave her that idea!  Her sweet voice was quivering as she told me that "all the girls in my class said they only weigh XX pounds, and when I told them I weigh XX pounds they told me I was fat and needed to lose weight, and the only way to do that was to go on a diet." These were her words verbatim. 

I was appalled, discouraged, angry and so heart-broken for my baby girl.  She has been so blissfully innocent til this point of all things bully-ish, and I was just so saddened that at 6 years old, in a Christian school, my 1st grader is already being bombarded with this 'ideal image' that the world pushes on us, and in all reality, being subjected to a form of bullying because of it.  And all because she ways 7-10 pounds more than most girls in her class.

I still wouldn't think the situation was right even if my daughter was overweight, but the thing is she's not!  Is she a bit stockier than some? Sure.  But she's also far stronger than most her age, and she does gymnastics weekly, plays soccer almost year-round, jumps on the trampoline, and is in every sense of the word a VERY active girl. This is not a girl who binges on cupcakes and soda when she gets home from school while planted in front of the TV.

I realize at this point that I potentially sound like a momma bear coming to the defense of her baby cub…and perhaps I am. But how unhealthy for a 6 year old to hear such words? To be ridiculed for the way she looks? 

My sweet baby girl has most definitely inherited my body shape…she looks like a sports player! She is not particularly tall, and she has some pretty muscular legs for a wee one.  There are times I feel sorry for her, knowing that there will be days in the future when she may curse her body shape, just as I have.

But  hopefully there will be a life of many good moments….moments where she loves her curves, moments that she loves her strength, moments that she enjoys that she can kick the ball farther than the boys and moments where she knows she can hold her own in a push and shove situation.  (Not that I'm condoning violence or fighting, but rather the ability to stand up for herself)

This scenario my baby girl experienced at school has taken me a week or more to process, and just as long to come up with a game plan.  You see, I already tell my kiddos they are wonderful, and I have told bubba that he is "my handsome lil man" and baby girl knows that her daddy & I think she's absolutely beautiful just the way God made her.  But it did get me thinking…perhaps there is more I can do so ensure that my kids maintain a healthy self-image, and maintain a healthy living /eating  active lifestyle?

So here's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to come up with a game plan, and kick it off with the beginning of a new year.  I think it's ironic that it times right at the beginning of a New Year….as I am quite adamantly opposed to New Years resolutions.  But nonetheless, I think I'll try it anyways….I'll fill you in on all the details of said game plan soon.

I would be very intrigued though if any of you have encountered this situation with your wee ones?  How did you handle it?  What did you say? 

I'm still reeling…and saddened tremendously for my baby girl.

Music....It does a soul good!

Yesterday the hubs & I had a real treat…we splurged this year on tickets to the Trans Siberian Orchestra for his birthday! I wish the day was just a joyous occasion from start to finish, but it wasn't.  We had a somewhat crazy morning getting out of our house for some reason…the kiddos weren't quite cooperating, the dog was hiding, and we were both really tired from a late night Saturday night.  We just couldn't seem to get our act together, and this made for a few whines and complaints from everyone (okay more than just a few!) along the way. 

The trip from our door to the grandparents door is just a mere 2 hours, and yet it dragged on. For.e.ver.  Needless to say my attitude was pretty crummy the entire car ride. I am behind on several house projects, multiple Addie & Andy orders and Christmas…so I was already feeling overwhelmed.  Than to top it off, I was feeling pretty lousy…this morning, at exactly 9:07 I figured out why when out of no where it struck...the stomach bug / flu bug my kiddos passed around all last week.  Fabulous! But I digress….

We dropped our kiddos off with Grannie & Pawpaw, ate a quick bite of lunch with them, then dashed out the door.  We did take an extra minute to grab a Starbucks on our way, which was I'm sure a welcomed momentary reprive for the hubs from my attitude. Coffee or chocolate, works for me every time! Even better when it's coffee AND chocolate!!

Then the frantic, rushed panicky part of going to this concert resumed.  You see, I hate people. Well, that's not true. I don’t really 'hate' people, I just greatly despise large crowds of people.  I get panicky, overwhelmed and clausterphobic when I'm sandwiched in between hundreds of other people.  And even more so when those hundreds of people are rude and inconsiderate, pushing you out of the way so they can arrive at their seat less than 30 seconds ahead of you!  I just don’t get it.  Crowds of people I mean.  And I have several friends who LOVE that kind of a scenario….I'm convinced they are crazy!

And there is the parking.  To curb my slight panic attacks, I always leave my house at least 20 minutes  in addition to driving time just to accommodate finding a parking space.  I'm not even talking a front door parking space, I'm just talking a decent, within walking distance, safe parking space. I just hate being late to things.  And if there's a chance I'll be late then I'll arrive very early.  I would much rather arrive really hurry and have time to answer a quick email or update FB or grab a coffee than to arrive late…because to me, being late = frantic panic attack! The hubs however, couldn't be more polar opposite.  He would be fine leaving the house at the time the event starts, and just assumes he will find a parking space…AND this doesn't bother him in the least!

And then there were the seats. Even though we did splurge on tickets, we didn't splurge on the really good floor seats, or even the first level up seats, we splurged on the second level up seats, on the side of the arena, almost even with the stage.  And to top it off, there were these 4 huge, I mean HUGE round light things (I'm sure there is a technical term for those!) that were hovering right over the stage, completely blocking our view!

I realize I should've just been grateful for the money to buy the tickets in the first place, and I should've been grateful for the opportunity to be there in person regardless of where we sat, but I still felt the need to whine & complain about what crummy seats we had, and how if we only had money we could have had 'real' seats!  Wow. Yep, I really did that.  To the hubs, who has had this concert on his birthday wish-list for literally years.  And the first chance we get to go, I spoil the mood by my snotty comments, and my inability to not stress over the stupid things…like parking & people!

As the concert started, what do you know!? The giant round light things started to move, up and up and up….till we had a fairly unobstructed view of the stage from our seats! And even though I was very thankful they moved, since that was my chief complaint, I still was unwilling to let go completely of my crummy attitude….even half-way through when I realized, huh, I'm kinda enjoying myself!  Duh!  I mean, who wouldn't love a rock-opera concert, live, without kiddos, on a Sunday afternoon, with the hubs!?

I felt pretty darn petty after that moment of realization….and yet I still didn't say anything to the hubs.  For some reason I felt I needed to still display that icy, snotty attitude I had that started apparently the moment I rolled out of bed. 

This morning I realized several things; first, the reason I felt so horrible physically was because I was coming down with a bug….second, I realized I had no business acting like I did just because I felt lousy. I was behaving like a spoiled brat instead of being grateful and relishing the opportunity to indulge in a treat we rarely have.  So, to the hubs, I am sorry!

And lastly, music speaks to my soul.  I have known this for a long time, I love most anything music related. It's why I chose a degree in Music-piano for my Bachelors, it's why I tear up at even the most ridiculous songs, and why I was practically bawling yesterday during the concert at one of the violin parts.  There is something about music that just grips your heart, reaching it oftentimes where words alone cannot, softening…if even just a bit…a hardened heart.

This is another component of my 'dance in the rain' journey….reinstating music into my life.  I suffered a dog bite that ruined part of my arm, and to this day makes it extremely painful and tedious to play piano for extended periods of time.  This injury, combined with no longer having a place on the church worship team, and not having anything to study music for has seriously depleted my soul.  I would even say it sent me into a slight depression for several years.  I have realized that I need music, I need that outlet, I need others around me in a musical capacity.

I have this friend who apparently must have glimpsed this need in me and started pulling me back into music through accompanying for a couple different choirs.  Nothing big, nothing too difficult, and nothing too performance driven, but just a little something to force me to get back in the habit of practicing.

It took the concert yesterday, even though it took over half of the concert before I could realize it, to acknowledge that music really does  awaken a part of me that was perhaps not dead, but very much asleep.  I am so thankful for the chance to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra in person, for the hubs who puts up with me, and for this particular friend who has pushed me re incorporate a vital part of my life, music.