Getting Real with Veronica Ibarra

It started in kindergarten. My daughter began growing out faster than she was growing up, and I began feeling like a bad mom because I couldn’t figure out what to do. Sodas were already a banned substance in our house except for on special occasions like a once in a while fast food or restaurant dinner where the kids were still drinking their one soda rather than wasting it. We aren’t even talking once every month.

I felt absolutely horrible when I had to talk to her doctor, and when she asked my daughter about her eating habits even the doctor began to see the difficulty. We only have skim milk, no soda, only occasional juice and mostly water. My daughter loves vegetables and fruit. Her favorite snack is salad without dressing. We aren’t a junk food family, and rarely go out or order in. She’s an active child who hates to sit still in front of the TV, and would rather go to the park to play. What more is there?

I was given one of those fact sheets about eating healthy and encouraging activities with a sympathetic face. I have regular talks with my daughter about healthy choices, and have her help me make the grocery list if not shop with me. She really is great at making healthy choices because she already prefers them. When offered a handful of cherry tomatoes or candy she wants the tomatoes. Still we worked as a family to make even more healthy choices and to do more activities as a family that involved walking and running.

One of my main goals is to instill healthy eating habits without bringing up the word diet to mean anything more than that. I try to provide her with healthy choices that she likes, and to always be on the lookout for new and fun recipes for us to work on together. We go out and play. Because while I’m trying to help her learn to take care of herself, I’m also trying to care for her self-esteem.

It’s hard to watch her get so excited about the new clothes that her grandmothers send her only to have her crying that they don’t fit.  I make it a point to give the grandparents an accurate measurement, but we all know how sizing varies and a large isn’t always a large. Things shrink in the wash in ways I can’t always predict. She’s already self conscious about how long shirts are or how low the neck line is and she’s only seven. Any pants that fit her waist are always five inches too long in the leg. And it’s utterly heartbreaking when she grows out of something she loves after only wearing it four or five times and I have to explain that she can’t wear it anymore.

Genetics are at work here, and I get so frustrated when some well meaning moms try to give me tips as if it’s all about diet. Clearly if that was it, we wouldn’t be having this issue. She takes after her father who is a broad shouldered Mexican, while I am more petite. I never believed in that whole big boned nonsense, but genetically speaking we are not all created the same. We metabolize differently, even if we do all eat healthy in this house, and believe me, we do. The only real treat I get to have is my coffee, which is only for adults in our house just so I can add all the cream and sugar I want.

As she’s been getting older we are starting to see her growing up more and out less, but she’s only seven.  We haven’t even gotten to puberty. I’ve become one of those vicious moms who snarls at the word diet like it’s the worst curse word imaginable, and I dread the middle school years. I’m always on the lookout for ways to encourage her and praise her while keeping her grounded in reality. I’ve learned how to talk honestly without being hurtful about clothing choices because eating habits are really the easy stuff with her. I’m not battling to keep her physically healthy. My battle is keeping her emotionally healthy against all the unhealthy body image crap we are surrounded with daily.