WEEK 3

Since the beginning, things have gotten worse, and better.

Our cupboard has moved from reminding me of a well-stocked 7-11 to impersonating the floor of a college fraternity house on a Sunday morning.

I suppose this is how storms go. They start slowly, softly, almost predictably, and before you know it you are watching a wild rampage outside your window. It’s like the girls went from tiptoeing around this way of eating, to jumping in face first.

They continue eating some combination of Pop Tarts, ice cream and Lucky Charms for most every meal. If I even think about counting the grams of sugar I feel stressed.

There are also small signs of change.

Today my nine-year-old snuggled up to me to tell me quietly that her stomach hurt after she ate. Of course, in my head I am thinking, Duh! Two bowls of Lucky Charms and a fruit roll up for breakfast? What did you expect? But I locked the frantic mother inside of me into her cage and said instead, Hmmm, what do you think is going on?

She replied, I don’t know. Last night I had to throw my ice cream away because I was eating it and my stomach hurt and I didn’t want it to hurt anymore.

I congratulated her for listening to her body, and told her I would help her by asking her from time to time how her stomach was feeling. While she did go on to have yet another bowl of Lucky Charms for dinner, this time she stopped short of the bowl of ice cream.

Inside, I look the liberty of a little salsa dancing, right in front of that frantic mother in her cage. My daughter knows how she is feeling physically, and she can connect it to what she is eating, even if she is not yet ready to do anything about it. Equally important, she threw food that she loves away. She now trusts that the ice cream will be available to her whenever she wants it, so she she can make the choice to eat it, rather than suck it down for fear that it will not be available later.

To continue with the storm analogy, a bit of wind is coming from a new direction.