With two daughters, both fast approaching that age where it's going to take a ten ton truck to move them from the front of a mirror, I'm really, really careful what I say about weight and I never mention the diet word.
They're right at that hot spot where they could all too easily start obsessing about their body shape and I don't want to give them the impression that this is ever something they need to worry about. (I do my own self appraisal of wobbly bits on the sly, long after they've gone to bed).I'm probably being neurotic but I'd rather err on the side of caution. If we see someone obese on the TV and they say: 'Gosh she's fat.' I always say something really politically correct like, 'Well, as long as she's happy in her skin, and fit and healthy then it doesn't really matter what size she is.' And my husband inevitably sniggers behind a sofa cushion and says something muffled that sound suspiciously like 'Lardy.'
But with boys it's different. Monty has just had his tonsils removed and despite eating the country out of Raspberry Ripple has managed to lose an enormous amount of weight. I was bathing him the other night and he's now so skinny I can see practically every nobble of bone sticking out of his back.
'Don't worry,' I reassured him. 'I was just as skinny at your age.' He took a moment before looking me up and down and replying: 'So, Mummy – is it a problem that goes away then?'
Do you talk about weight and diets with your daughters?
Do you worry you're a good role model for them?
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