God's Joke?
It's God's idea of a joke.
I'm trying (as always) to lose weight and now I'm supposed to fatten up my son.
He had his annual check-up in August and he's in the 25th percentile for weight. That means 75% of 12-year-olds weigh more than he does. Of course, in 7th grade I was pretty skinny, too. Eating disorders were big in those days, and I guess, these ones, too.
Phillip's doctor was concerned enough to ask us to come back in January for another weigh-in. It's not that my son's unhealthy. It's just that he doesn't like to eat (imagine that). Occasionally I'll buy him a sugar cookie loaded with frosting from the bakery or some Ben & Jerry's mint chocolate chip. But nine times out of 10, guess who ends up eating it? You're looking at her (or, at least, reading her).
Sometimes I wonder where he came from. He's happy, self-confident, smart (even gets A's in honors math, when I got 360 on my math SAT -- and you get 200 points for spelling your name right!). He wasn't anxious at all about starting middle school last year (I didn't sleep for two nights), and he has no trouble going on sleepaways with school or extra-curricular activities. Starting at about just this age, I had panic attacks sleeping over at anyone else's house -- and this was at my godmother's, with my cousins!
There are some things I wish he'd like -- like sports -- and there we're very alike. (I jog because all it takes is sneakers.) And I wish he didn't like the computer quite so much.
But overall, he's the kid I'd've liked to be in school -- comfortable with everything, kind, disgustingly well-adjusted.
My husband and I talk about this a lot. We both had difficult childhoods, and wonder if the absence of constant punishment and abuse make a child's life turn out differently.
We'll never know. But we take a little credit for how our son, so far, is turning out. And know that, when God was planning him, there was no joke.
I'm trying (as always) to lose weight and now I'm supposed to fatten up my son.
He had his annual check-up in August and he's in the 25th percentile for weight. That means 75% of 12-year-olds weigh more than he does. Of course, in 7th grade I was pretty skinny, too. Eating disorders were big in those days, and I guess, these ones, too.
Phillip's doctor was concerned enough to ask us to come back in January for another weigh-in. It's not that my son's unhealthy. It's just that he doesn't like to eat (imagine that). Occasionally I'll buy him a sugar cookie loaded with frosting from the bakery or some Ben & Jerry's mint chocolate chip. But nine times out of 10, guess who ends up eating it? You're looking at her (or, at least, reading her).
Sometimes I wonder where he came from. He's happy, self-confident, smart (even gets A's in honors math, when I got 360 on my math SAT -- and you get 200 points for spelling your name right!). He wasn't anxious at all about starting middle school last year (I didn't sleep for two nights), and he has no trouble going on sleepaways with school or extra-curricular activities. Starting at about just this age, I had panic attacks sleeping over at anyone else's house -- and this was at my godmother's, with my cousins!
There are some things I wish he'd like -- like sports -- and there we're very alike. (I jog because all it takes is sneakers.) And I wish he didn't like the computer quite so much.
But overall, he's the kid I'd've liked to be in school -- comfortable with everything, kind, disgustingly well-adjusted.
My husband and I talk about this a lot. We both had difficult childhoods, and wonder if the absence of constant punishment and abuse make a child's life turn out differently.
We'll never know. But we take a little credit for how our son, so far, is turning out. And know that, when God was planning him, there was no joke.
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