I don’t know if it will always be this way, but life has felt like it’s been a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, with intense concentration and constant forward motion or necessary, intense rest, with little time for anything other than these essentials, since I last blogged.

I have many thoughts, but find myself with less of an immediate need to share them. Not because I’m not curious what other people might thing, or if they hold up in the light of day, but thinking has had to take a back seat to doing for a while.

Overall, life is good. I am stepping around my new terrain with some confidence these days. I actually felt happy (rather than overwhelmed, exhausted, just tired, stressed or downright anxious) today for the first time in a while, in one calm, contented moment. As I’ve made these transitions of the past few months, it seems like there’s been color commentary going on in my brain that sounds something like this:

Sportscaster 1: “Well, she’s not out of bed yet, and her heart is racing. Will she make it through another workday?”

Sportscaster 2: “It’s too soon to tell. If yesterday was any guide, today looks to be grueling. Her record shows she’s able to pull through, but for how long?”

The sportscasters are pretty quiet this weekend. The cringing and Monday Morning Quaterbacking were at an all-time high during one incident when I sent an email “reply all” instead of “reply” – but thankfully, my new supervisor took it in stride.

So, what do I want to talk about?

I made something tasty for dinner. Baked pasta with roasted vegetables, spinach and cheese, with a little marinara sauce. It came out great, but we have a ton of leftovers. I have been so busy with work that I haven’t been cooking much, and even though it was an easy dinner to make, it felt good to be in the kitchen.

I’ll probably be blogging less, commenting less, lurking more. I don’t like the way that sounds, because just because I’m in more of an observer than playing an active role in the Fatosphere, doesn’t mean I’m being creepy. I’m just at a phase of taking in information, more than sharing it out. It feels right, for right now.

I hope the world is treating you okay, that you are crossing the bridges in front of you with the greatest ease possible, and not second-guessing yourself too much. And that, in the words of the Irish blessing, that the road on the other side of the bridge rises up to meet you.

For me, marketing food to kids (or anything to kids) messes with the Division of Responsibility. My daughter consumes plenty of media from the computer and DVDs, but she hasn’t seen many commercials in her life. Most of her peers, though, watch commercial TV, at least some of the time.

Whether or not one agrees with the campaign, I think The Prevention Institute deserves credit for NOT centering their campaign around “childhood obesity” or even mentioning it once in this video.

h/t Yoni Freedhoff

feels good

I am dressing up today

I’m busting out

My tummy sticks out

My freak flag is flying high

I am a feast

for the eyes

for the ears

for the body

for the mouth

My sensuality doesn’t end where your squeamishness begins

I am squishy soft motherhood that snuggles close

My fat is a re-Source

A hug from me is worth a million dollars

and I am not backing down.

(inspired by Virgie Tovar)

Usually, I think they are wrong and I am right for always trying to find the silver lining. But not today.

It’s 4:34 a.m. I’m awake. The rain is pouring down in sheets outside. While rain isn’t unusual for where I live, which is practically a rainforest 8 months out of the year, it’s raining awfully hard right now, which is somewhat unusual. So, I’m thinking it’s not a good day for me to bike to work. I don’t have the head-to-toe rain gear, or one of those flashlight beam headlamps, I just haven’t progressed to that level of obsession with bike commuting (yet).

I made a tactical error at work yesterday. I’m not sure why. I spoke up in a meeting where I should have kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t so much what I said, which in another setting would have been fine, it was the timing. I wish I had a rewind button. I feel like I suck.

After that meeting, where I had to leave early (after foolishly speaking up) I headed to my daughter’s first-grade parent-child-teacher conference. Which went okay, but the teacher and my daughter are not exactly the most compatible duo in the world. I saw my little girl the way an objective bystander might see her, and I winced a little. Not at who she is, but the way I’ve been raising her. I think she could sense my disapproval, which was worse than the feeling of judgement I had toward myself. Not good.

Thankfully, my husband, her loving father, took it all in stride. And I sat down with her and after some bargaining, coached her on her first-grade homework. She is having a hard time focusing (which is entirely normal for her, and for a 6-year-old) but she accomplished quite a bit (with me reading books to her in between her work). I told her I liked sitting with her while she did her homework. The trick will be how to do that after I get home on a usual workday at 6 p.m. or so, while fitting in a home-cooked meal (usually not me doing the cooking, but still) and our many activities we have going on (the Jewish High Holidays make for a very busy time of year — things will likely slow down once we’re past Simchat Torah next week). And getting ready for bed, etc.

My little first grader, who I usually see through a mother’s loving eyes, was driving me absolutely insane yesterday. I hardly ever yell at her, and I must have yelled her name, or some other command along the lines of “Stop” or “Cut it Out” 10 times last night. I was in a bad mood. Which is somewhat rare for me. My family members sensed this and generally responded well, and helped me calm down. A massage from my husband helped. My daughter finally calming down enough to fall asleep helped. And now, hearing the rain is helping, too. A great workout would probably be in order, but I’m not sure what I can do that will be quiet enough to keep from waking up the rest of the family at 4:44 a.m.

Writing this, here’s what I’m coming to:

• It’s normal to be in a bad mood from time to time
• Yesterday was a stressful day
• I’m sorry for some of the ways I responded to what was going on yesterday
• I don’t suck, overall
• My family loves me
• My little girl is both amazing and ordinary
• We have too much going on right now but it’s going to get better
• Eating in response to stress leads to insomnia for me
• I really need some exercise

It sounds like the rain has stopped, or at least, slowed back to the normal drizzle from the sky that I expect.

One other thing. We were driving in the car the other day, and we were listening to the “Free to Be You and Me” CD. Little girl asks me, while we’re listening to “It’s Alright to Cry,” if I ever cry. She has seen me cry, but not since she was about 4 years old, and I haven’t cried much in front of her. I cried so much when I had a miscarriage (when she was 4) and when her dad wasn’t doing well (when she was 4-5), but I usually found ways and times to cry when she wasn’t around. I did cry in front of her a few times then, but usually silent tears streaming down my face more than the full-blown crying that I did in private (or during therapy sessions). I say, “Yes, I do cry. I have cried lots of times. But I cry when I’m sad, and I haven’t been sad lately.” So, the next time I feel like crying, I’m going to try to remember that she needs to see me cry, so she knows that this grown-up does cry from time to time and it’s perfectly okay to do so.

I love my little girl so much.

This parenting thing is turning out to be worth it for me. (I will probably regret saying this sometime in the next 10 years weeks days hours minutes.)

Longtime fan of India.Arie that I am, it was mindblowing to hear her sing in Hebrew — certain synapses were firing in new and exciting ways hearing this.

Here is the video (I’ve never embedded before, but here goes):

Lately, my weight has been higher. By higher, I mean 10 pounds higher than where it was a couple of months ago. And this has been something worrisome, to some degree. Annoying to another degree. And a good kind of challenge to yet another degree. (I have at least 360 degrees, right?)

The photo of me here is recent. As in, taken about 12 hours ago. I still look like me. I was sneaking up on my daughter to take a picture of her. She isn’t exactly camera shy, but lately she hasn’t wanted to have her picture taken as much as she used to. It’s annoying to me, because she is so darn cute (and missing one of her front teeth) and I want to capture her image right now. But that’s exactly it — she doesn’t want her image captured, unless she’s doing the capturing. She’s been playing around with the “Photo Booth” application on our Mac and making these very silly short videos — usually a minute long or less. Somehow she’s picked up the concept of a reporter delivering a newscast (maybe from doing skits at summer camp) — the reporter is always a man. What’s funny is I doubt she’s ever seen “the news” — we haven’t had TV since she was too little to remember, and while her dad watches the news sometimes on the Internet while she is around, it’s not in English.

Okay, wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, my weight. So, I was hiding trying to take a picture of her, and she got mad, and I let her take a picture of me instead. So I have this recent photo of me. In a funny pose.

So, what do those 10 pounds mean?

• a recovery from some pretty deep depression.
• a response to riding my bike a few days a week for a month now, and feeling hungrier (and sometimes some low blood sugar) as a result.
• Being super busy now that the school year has started and I’m in the full swing of all of the things I do other than simply work full-time and “mom” (used as a verb there)

So, do I need to “do something about it?” I’m not sure. I need to do something about having more consistent blood sugar levels, so I don’t have moments when its low and as a response, my entire body and brain vibrates with this sole message: EAT NOW. I’m not going to stop riding my bike if I can help it. I’m not going on a diet. I’m not avoiding foods I love (although holding off on eating sweeter things other than fruit until later in the day does seem to help with managing blood sugar). I’m not going to stop doing the things that are keeping me super busy, because I’m enjoying them and they are contributing to my overall health and well-being. I might like to be getting more/better sleep, but aside from that, I’m not sure what else I want to adjust.

I asked my therapist a question that has been part of that tight knot of thoughts lately — “Am I doing something now that will hurt my health later by not focusing on losing weight now?” Her response was not to answer that question, but to ask me what it is that happens to my extraordinary compassion when I think of myself, rather than when I’m thinking about others. I took this to mean that if someone came to me with this question, how would I answer?

And, if a friend told me what I told her, said to me what I’ve written here, about the fullness of her life, the extent to which she is fully in the moment rather than neurotically second-guessing every step of the way, I would tell her that focusing on losing weight to the detriment of her life now — what would that give her? There is no guarantee that focusing on weight would provide any safety or security in the future. Focusing instead on those things that have both current and future payoffs (biking, volunteering in my daughter’s classroom, providing myself with healthful nourishment, and much much more) are really the places to put energy. Now, to treat myself like a friend, that seems to be the main trick this old puppy needs to learn.

But one thought seems to be slightly more lose in that knot, and it is this one:

What if all of the fat people went on strike for a day? Or on “holiday” all at the same time? What if we all were absent from our many responsibilities, jobs, roles all at the same time?

What schools would be absent their most excellent teachers? What hospitals would be missing their most wise and compassionate staff? Who would take care of children, be they our own children, our grandchildren, foster children or other people’s children? What would it be like to walk through offices and try to get something done? Who would pick up the extra bus routes? Who would see clients who needed assistance? Who would make tough decisions, expend resources? Who would sing? Who would operate the camera on the set? Who would prepare food, stock it on the shelves of the stores, assist people in purchasing most anything? Who would run the charitable campaigns? Who would put a band-aid on a skinned knee? Manage our computer networks? Farm our food? There are a million other things that fat people do, but some really essential things that we do are to care for our families, friends, communities, schools, hospitals, elders and youth.

If two-thirds of our society in the U.S. is made up of people who have a BMI of 25 or higher, or even if we were to limit this to a strike of people who were more “visibly fat” — realistically, many of our daily functions would grind to a halt. A fat person on a hospital gurney is seen as a drain on society — a fat person in scrubs saving a life isn’t. Fatness is seen by many as something that can and must be altered, and staying fat is seen as a choice. The concept that everyone can and should be thin is one embraced by many. And those clinging to that idea are resistant to losing the privilege they have acquired by being in the minority of those who do not see themselves as fat, and are not seen by others as fat. Whether they have gained this privilege by hard work or by a spin of the genetic roulette, they feel they deserve to be thought of as “better than.”*

I’m not advocating for this idea, but it is an interesting thought experiment.

I have been reading a bit about Wangari Maathai, the Kenyan Nobel Peace Prize Winner who recently died of cancer. Looking at photos of her, she is a beautiful woman who was larger than average. Her life was filled with amazing accomplishments that challenged expectations and truly changed the world. She was immensely brave, and like many brave and bold women, had her critics and enemies. And she died at the untimely age of 71. Currently, the average life expectancy for a woman in Kenya is 60 years.

To people who think that fat people are worth less than thin people, I would encourage them to read about Wangari Maathai, and compare their lives to hers, in terms of impact, accomplishments, overall. They can put “remained thin” in their accomplishments column if they wish to. And then come talk with me about the comparison.**

* I don’t put all not-fat people in one big group — I’m referring to those people, fat or not, who think that thin people are superior to fat people, merely because of fatness (or a lack thereof).

** Okay, so, I don’t generally think it’s a good idea for anyone to compare themselves to anyone else. We all have differences in our lives course, our circumstances, our abilities and just what gets thrown at us. But, humility isn’t a horrible thing to have. I try to practice it anytime I notice thinking I’m “better than” anyone else. Which is usually only when someone tries to make me feel “less than,” anyhow.

So, in Jewish time*, this time of year is the new year. And for many of my new years, every new year, in September/October and again in December/January, I wished this year would be the one that would finally make me thin. I often found that conversations I had with whatever concept I had of God at the time revolved around pleading for help in losing weight.

That’s not what I pray about these days. If I notice myself “wishing for thinness” — I try to pray for patience with myself. Compassion for the mental “willpower” I need to avoid falling into the trap of those thoughts. I wish for a new year filled with health, with satisfaction, with joy, with company when I’m in pain and solitude when I need it — but my weight will do what it will do as long as I stay out of the way.

I wish for you — for all human kind — freedom, peace, creativity, solace, love and deliciousness in the coming year. Heck, in all the coming years.

* Insert standard joke about “Jewish time” being somewhere between 15 minutes and an hour later than “gentile” time — a common in-joke that cultures that have a different rhythm to their rituals than a precise, clock-based sense of time, share.

But, I won’t take sole credit for it, I am certain there were others involved who knew nothing about what I wrote, but perhaps what I wrote played a small role in changes I noticed to the Food Day web site.

For one, in addition to a photo of Morgan Spurlock I didn’t see before, there was this photo of Demalda Newsome.

Demalda Newsome’s story shares some commonalities with, of all people’s, Michelle Bachmann. She moved out of her home state and started a farm, where she and her husband have raised her children, and fostered many others. Her faith plays a large role in her politics. But I think that’s where the commonalities end. Rather than directing her energies in the ways that Michelle Bachmann has, her passion is for improving communities and foodways. In an article in Mia Magazine, Fall 2009, Demalda Newsome’s story is told, and it’s allowed me to learn about someone I want to honor and emulate. So, thank you, Food Day organizers, for listening to people like me and making changes. The changes appear not only to be to images, but also to text. Some of the text on the Food Day web site I found to be problematic has been changed. While I might still want to take another pass at it, it is much better.

These changes do make me feel more of a connection to Food Day. I will look for a way to participate.

But, I really want to talk about Demalda Newsome. Food security is a passion of mine. But I often feel like the issue of it is so huge, I don’t know where to start. In the article that appeared in Mia Magazine Fall 2009, Demalda Newsome talks about her background growing up Catholic in Greenville Mississippi, she says “[the nuns returning from working with the underserved in Africa and elsewhere] taught us we were also responsible to the people who did not have. I remember getting that charge. When I first heard that there were people who looked like me who didn’t have food to eat, I laid my head on my desk and cried.”

Later in the article she states:

“I almost feel chosen to do this because, believe me, I tried to get out. I told God, ‘Maybe someone else can do this.’ These issues, these problems, are all so much and so big.”

“But I’m not afraid to take on controversy…Not only do I feel I have to represent African Americans, but I also want to represent people of color who are stuck in a system of oppression and don’t know how to get out.”

Her work has resulted in a web of community gardens, WIC and food stamps being accepted at Farmer’s Markets, and improving food available in low-income areas. I am going to keep learning more about what Demalda Newsome has done and is about.

CSPI is still not my favorite organization, but I’m so glad to see that someone listened to me and others and made changes that make Food Day more inclusive.

I noticed Food Day, and I quickly forgot about it, because the sponsor of food day leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The main sponsor is the Center for Science in the Public Interest, whose mission statement sounds great:

The Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) is a consumer advocacy organization whose twin missions are to conduct innovative research and advocacy programs in health and nutrition, and to provide consumers with current, useful information about their health and well-being.

In general, CSPI’s three main goals are:

• To provide useful, objective information to the public and policymakers and to conduct research on food, alcohol, health, the environment, and other issues related to science and technology;
• To represent the citizen’s interests before regulatory, judicial and legislative bodies on food, alcohol, health, the environment, and other issues; and
• To ensure that science and technology are used for the public good and to encourage scientists to engage in public-interest activities.

But whose tactics are not health promoting. In this way, CSPI’s commitment to “provide useful, objective information to the public and policymakers” is undermined by their “otherizing” of fat people, fat shaming and reinforcing fat hatred.

The Food Day 2011 web site has a rotating set of pictures of people with talk bubbles and here’s the lineup of all of the people featured on the site. Let’s play a little game, and see if we can identify what all of these people have in common:

What did you come up with? Did you notice that they are all not fat?

Which is interesting, because CSPI loves to say things like “Two-thirds (66%) of American adults are seriously overweight or obese.”

Or like “For far too long, the nation’s response to childhood obesity has been underwhelming, considering obesity’s massive impact on the nation’s physical and fiscal health.” and the wonderful speculation that “Because of the rising obesity rates, this may be the first generation of children who live shorter lives than their parents.”*

CSPI cynically cites some of “The Consequences of Childhood Obesity” as:

Emotional and Social Health

• Low self-esteem
• Negative body image
• Depression
• Stigma
• Teasing and bullying
• Negative stereotyping
• Discrimination
• Social marginalization

Gee, I would give that grouping of negative consequences a different title, not “The Consequences of Childhood Obesity” but “The Consequences of Fat Hatred.” Way to blame the victim, CSPI!

One of my biggest pet peeves with CSPI is the language they use in their “Nutrition Action Healthletter” that reinforces fat hate. Allow me to offer some examples:

Remember when a slice of cheesecake was a modest wedge about an inch-or-so high? The Cheesecake Factory Ultimate Red Velvet Cake Cheesecake has one of those wedges. In fact, it has two. They alternate with two wedges of red velvet cake, each of which probably contains a cupcake’s worth of cake.

So now you’re up to two slices of cheesecake plus two cupcakes…plus cream cheese frosting plus white chocolate shavings plus a small silo of whipped cream. Plus sizes are just a step away!

Because, well, Plus sizes! How horrible! Imagine having to wear a plus size!

Since when is a cookie the size of a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder patty? Since Americans started growing bigger buns.

Oh, ha ha. I see what you did there. Americans = big buns = quarter pounder hamburger, that you put on a bun. You’re telling me my ass looks fat, but in a funny way. Ha ha. Let’s make fun of the fat people so we don’t become them, just like on the elementary school playground. That’s so healthy!

People don’t expect light desserts at The Cheesecake Factory. (News flash: You can get a Goblet of Fresh Strawberries for just 110 it’s-almost-beach-season calories.)…“Layers and Layers of Fudge Cake with Chocolate Truffle Cream and Chocolate Mousse,” says the menu. Say hello to layers and layers of you.

Because, fat people on the beach, why that is soooooo groooooooss. And layers and layers of human fat is also gross. You can get cooties from fat, you know.

When describing a new chocolate-covered ice cream bar on the U.S. market, CSPI has this to say:

Unilever isn’t trying to steal customers away from Dove and Häagen-Dazs, the company told The Wall Street Journal. Magnum’s entry should “at least double the size of the market for super-premium ice cream novelties,” noted a company spokesperson.

If Magnum bars take off here, the market won’t be the only thing whose size you can expect to double.

That’s right, if these “killer” ice cream bars take off here, people will double in size. Wouldn’t that be hideous? And it might happen after eating Just. One. Ice. Cream. Bar.

When it comes to making fat people the other, CSPI really went all out when critiquing Outback Steakhouse:

Outback patrons are probably all about the food, too. Why else blow nearly 1,500 calories on a plate of pasta? And their food may be all about them…about their waist, their hips, their thighs, and their other assorted body parts.

Because people who read CSPI’s Nutrtion Action Healthletter would never eat at Outback. Now, I’m not a big fan of Outback, or it’s parent corporation, which exerts its influence through a PAC to support candidates and causes I find repulsive, like many other international corporations (its reported earnings for the first 6 months of this year were $298,240,000, up from $273,668,000 in the first six months of 2010, if I’m reading the financial statement to shareholders correctly). But why the fat hatred? Why the otherizing? Why the name calling, and dismantling of fat people’s body parts? Why, CSPI, if your mission is to “provide useful, objective information?” (Michael Jacobson, feel free to post a response in the comments section.)

What’s especially sad for me is that the stated goals of Food Day are right up my alley. I agree with all of them:

Why, those are all great! And not even once is the “O” word in there. So, CSPI and other Food Day organizers, was it just too hard to find a member of the food justice, environmental justice, farm worker rights, or an organic farmer who is fat? Or would that have disrupted the “look & feel” of the Food Day marketing, and somehow sent the wrong message? Of the nearly 80 Food Day Advisory Board members, maybe 10% are in the “overweight and obese category” (including Kelly Brownell). Why, that’s just like the two-thirds statistic you keep quoting, CSPI. Oh well, at least some of the Food Day (least attractive) T-Shirts go up to a size 4X (and of course, not the tank tops, because, ewwww, plus sizes). That is probably what they would point to if they were asked about including fat people in their movement.

*If this generation of children live shorter lives than their parents, who would deign to suggest that it may be because of societal neglect, a broken health care system, corporatocracy, poverty, ridiculously high disparities in wealth and health between rich and poor, and health disparities experienced by people of color, people with disabilities, and people who are not heterosexual or cis-gendered?