So after reading Jack's blog, I couldn't stand it...
I went out and bought Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, frosty the snoman and It's Christmas, Charllie brown.
Tonight we watched Rudolph...and it really ticked Sophie off. She couldn't believe that the reindeer and the elves treated people that way....it was cute.
I am writing this post a day early because something pretty neat just happened.
I know we all have our sad fat stories.
Things someone said that really struck us in the gut.
Well, about nine years ago...when my oldest was six, almost seven...
I was trying to get her to eat some of her breakfast because we were headed to the mountains to ski.
She wouldn't eat...I was pressuring, and she said, "You just want me to be fat like you."
Well, that was a moment.
What do you say to that?
No, I don't?
Yes, I do?
I'm not fat?
It's almost akin to that question "So, have you stopped beating your wife?"
I told her that I didn't want her to be fat, just not hungry when we went skiing.
My husband about lost his nut.
I was three months pregnant at the time...and he was all, "Your mother is pregnant'.
I just wanted the subject dropped, quite frankly.
Kate apologized. I accepted.
We moved on.
So you can imagine my arrested posture upon this announcement through the bathroom door tonight.
I am taking a bath...listening to music...relaxing.
Sophie, my youngest.
"Mom, I want to be you for Halloween."
(I know, Halloween is a year away, for some reason she is always planning what she is going to be for halloween.)
"You want to be like me?"
She says "Yeah, I have your shirt on.."
I say "OKAY"...
I am waiting to hear what she says..
She says..."Well, I will have to put a shirt on under this one, cause this one is big.."
I thought, oh here we go again...
She says "But I will need some tights too."
I say "Tights?"
She says "Yeah, Tights and tennis shoes, So I can jog door to door"
I sat there for a second and said...
"Cause that's what I do? Jog?"
She says "Yeah."
Now if I never lost another pound. If I never look like Jillian Micheals.
If I have to cram my *ss in a pair of 12's or 14's the rest of my born days.
I will still do this.
...My daughter wanting to 'Be like me"...
Can't beat that sh*t.
The jogging blogger,