Look in the mirror.
Are you proud of what you see? Is what you see healthy, fit, able to run from a burning building or destined to melt inside it?
Is what you see something someone else would wish to emulate, look up to?
Do you have children?
Now, tie all those together.
If what stares back at you is a candidate for Michellin tire mascot status, or the Pillsbury Doughboy award, and you have children? Congratulations. You are a ROLL model.
Not a role model.
Last night, someone from Debbie's past reached out for her nursing advice because her child was just diagnosed with T2 diabetes and weighs 175 pounds.
That is tragic, sad - for both the child and the parent who was seemingly concerned.
Oh, but it gets better. In that totally-gets-worse kind of way.
The child is only 10 year old.
Yeah.
Picture that. The average 10 year old is 4 1/2 feet tall. That's 54 inches. That means her poor body is dragging around 3.24 pounds per inch.
What the hell quality of life is that for a 10 year old? And I'm not even talking about the being picked last for Dodgeball-getting called names on the playground quality of life. I'm talking ACTUAL QUALITY OF LIFE.
The child's diet consists mainly of fried food, fast food. The child's exercise involves changing positions on the couch and the calesthenics of changing channels on the remote.
Debbie's suggestions were as common sense as they were accessible and immediately actionable.
Cut out the fast food. Get the child moving.
Her response to being told to cut out the McDonalds? "She'll freak out."
Pardon me, but so the f*ck what?
If the child wants to throw a gorilla sized shit fit, hell, if she wants to literally fling her poo in the face of being denied her deep fried, LET HER. If you don't buy the crap, the child cannot eat the crap. And the child will eventually get hungry enough to eat what is offered.
But if what is offered is also keeping your ass unpleasingly plump? Well, you are in no position to be forcing a change on your child.
The buck must start with you if it is to stop with them.
It amazes me how many people in this world defend their fat. Like it's some badge of honor. And don't get me wrong - I am not talking about the inevitable increase in the waistline as you get older, or having a few curves. I am talking about waddle-when-you-walk, health compromised, can't-see-your- shoes-when-you-look-down, get-out-of-breath-climbing-a-single-flight-of-stairs, would-rather-die-with-a-bbq-rib-hanging-out-your-jowl-than-consider-a-salad fat.
And that is over 25% of our country.
You know who you are. And you know damn well you let day after day slide by knowing you should do something to change direction, to set an example for your children, to live longer, to be healthy, but then you get to the end of the day and the only thing you have changed is the channel on the remote and flavor of Ben & Jerry's in your hand.
(And yes, some people have true physiological issues at play, but NOT the majority of them. The majority have two issues at play. They chew too much, they move too little.)
Debbie's conversation with the Mom continued until it was evident Debbie was putting the onus on the mother to institute changes that would prove life saving for her child. Changes that, yes, the child would stomp her fat feet at for a while. The final shot fired was the weakest one, "you're not a parent - you have no f*cking clue."
Then she hung up.
Typical. Call bullshit on someone in the food arena - TELL THEM THE TRUTH - and they completely shut down, tell you to f*ck youself, and waddle off in search of someone who will pat their sweaty head and tell them they are beautiful. On the inside.
Look, I don't care if your personality is the emotional equivalent of Giselle Bundchen's ass in a thong, you are FAT ON THE OUTSIDE AND THE INSIDE where your vital organs reside. And your "inner beauty" is not what gets measured when they prick your finger, cuff your arm, or diagnose you with diabetes.
And the same goes for your child.
Being a nice person isn't going to save you from your self imposed health consequences.
My heart breaks for the children I see waddling the aisles at Walmart orbiting their equally rotund planets parents. But one look in the cart they are pushing tells the tale. I shouldn't care because they obviously do not.
Chips, sodas, snack cakes, every form of food laden with sodium, fat, and convenience.
And don't give me the they cannot afford vegetables or fruit line. A bag of assorted chips for lunchboxes runs just under $8. You can get a satchel of oranges or apples for that much money. And that family sized box of Hamburger Helper with its needed burger? A big bag of frozen veggies that steam in the bag and a box of rice can make a couple meals.
If you don't buy it, YOU and your child cannot eat it.
Ahhhhh, but there it is. That whole willpower issue. Yes, it relies on you having some. It relies on you finally deciding that nothing tastes as good as seeing another sunrise feels. That having your child throw multiple fits is a no-brainer trade for course correcting her 175 pound ship.
IT'S. NOT. EASY.
I know that. I have given birth 3 times, have a metabolism that wants desperately to kick back and take a breather, and am barely 5'2". I could easily grow sideways until I, too, resemble the 25% flotilla of barges sailing the aisles at Walmart. I could easily say, "pass the biscuits and gravy and throw on a spare rib while you're at it" instead of passing the biscuits and gravy and spare ribs.
But I have three daughters. Three daughters who have grown up watching their mother lead by example, not by magic bullet, not by gimmick, not by extremes. They have seen that what goes in is reflected in the mirror - in terms of health as much as in terms of pants size. They know that there is no magic bullet. That caring for your body is your job for as long as you have your body.
Does that mean they have never had fast food? Of course not. What it means is a trip to McDonalds was once-in-a-while, not once-everytime-we-passed-the-Golden-Arches.
I find the thought of a 175 pound 10 year old depressing. Like having a 175 pound ten year old sitting on my heart.
What I find infuriating is a parent who abdicates all responsibility for how she got to that point, and refuses to make the immediate changes necessary to save that child's life. It's as bad as if the child is drowning and the parent turns their back and blames the person who built the pool.
If it were my child who was now facing T2 diabetes and all the health traumas that come with it, and the doctors said eating crushed glass, kale, and marbles would reverse the disease? We'd be having Kale-Marble-Glass casserole tonight.
But back to you looking in the mirror. Honestly, what do you see? Someone who takes pride in themselves, their health, or someone who simply takes the easy way out (which usually involves shouting an order into a box).
And I don't care if your child is currently not packing the pounds. If YOU are, you are setting a shitty example for them. Turn on any episode of Toddlers and Tiaras. The mothers and fathers are predominantly FAT. Not a-little-overweight. FAT.
They should save the money they spend teaching their daughters that outer beauty is the be-all-end-all and invest it in shedding their own literal baggage and hypocrisy. They should be setting a healthy example, not sending the totally mixed message of "Do as I say, not as I chew."
A recent episode of Fat Chef showed a man who started at over 500 pounds, was working his ass off, but whose wife, when interviewed, sat there voicing the "I'll believe it when I see it, he should do it for his children" line.
She was easily 2 bills and change herself.
She should have been busting sit-ups and scaling back her diet every bit as much as her husband. FOR HER CHILDREN.
Is this rant harsh? Only if you see yourself in it and have a serious aversion to being told the truth.
This is about health. Not about being a Size 0 (another bullshit talking point people hide behind). Just like smoking, there is NO health benefit. There is only risk. There is only shortened life expectancy, futher compromised health as each day passes.
But people won't stop because they enjoy it. Because stopping the cig habit or Big Gulp ingestion requires self control, denial, a change in how they do things.
And young or old, people don't like change.
Which brings us back to Debbie's new "unfriend."
She said Debbie has no f*cking clue because she's not a parent. Well, lady, I am a parent and I call bullshit. The only one without a f*cking clue in this scenario is YOU.
You are weak. You are a coward. And you are not a parent.
Because a parent would step up and save their child.
You are a ROLL model. Not a ROLE MODEL.
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