"...like a fat kid loves cake"

The other day, Mal wanted to go to Altitude Trampoline Park. It's almost an hour from where we live, and it's a bear to drive down, but we'd had kind of a weird morning, so I thought it'd be a fun thing to do. As much as Mal likes Jump Street, which is considerably closer, they have only one area where kids under 4 are allowed to jump. It has 3 long trampolines, a bouncy slide, and a bouncy obstacle course. It's fun, but at Altitude, he can go everywhere. It's also considerably more expensive, except when they have open toddler jump, and we can't seem to get a straight word from them on when they're going to start doing that again.

Anyway, none of this is really about that. It's about something I noticed during the hour we were there.

There were more kids there than I was expecting, but I guess it's possible a lot of them were homeschoolers, or that some schools start later than AISD. I was amused by this one pair of middle-school-aged girls who just hopped around to places to sit and gab most of the time. Like: jump jump jump, sit on the stand for 10 minutes; jump, jump, walk, sit in the corner against the wall for 15 minutes; repeat variations on that theme. I know how much it costs per hour for kids to jump there. I'd just drop them off at the mall. But they were having a good time, regardless.

Mal had seem someone with popcorn and wanted some, so we went to buy a box. Making our way to the snack area, I saw those girls sitting out in the lounge. The smaller of the girls had an Icee. The larger one had a straw, and every now and then would take a drink, but it was obviously the smaller girl's, and she never handed it over.

Something in my head said, "That big girl doesn't think she's allowed to have a slushie in public." Then I decided I was projecting, and went on.

When Mal was ready to go, we packed everything up and I was throwing our trash away when I saw the girls again. This time, the smaller girl had a cup of Dippin' Dots ice cream. The bigger girl was, again, not eating anything.

Now, it's entirely possible that one girl just had money where the other girl didn't. Maybe the second girl's parents just thought they'd spent enough on the admission and that she could drink out of the water fountain. I realize that.

But it made me remember of a friend of mine who said it used to make her cry when she'd see a fat kid eating a hot dog. She said she wanted to yell at the parents not to let their kid eat that way. I didn't realize at the time how fatphobic and wrong-headed that "concern" (judgment) was.

This girl, the one who had an Icee and ice cream, can eat whatever she wants in public and no one will ever say a word to her. But the eyebrows fly when a bigger girl might want to enjoy the same foods. And this food policing is a breeding ground for private binging.

The double-standard -- like, the Gilmore Girls eat two large pizzas between them and it's adorable, but if a real life fat person ate half a pizza, throngs would chime in "that's why you are the way you are!" even though EVERYBODY has times they overeat, or eat non-nutritive foods, and not everybody's bodies look the same.

That double standard is troubling enough lobbed at adults. But, man, it's particularly infuriating and damaging when a kid feels like they can't have a treat because they've been taught they don't "deserve" it; that there is something wrong with them and it's their life's work to fix it so people will treat them with at least some respect for being a "good far person" and trying, even if they aren't ever able to make their bodies into lithe forms pleasing to the fickle eyes of our culture.

This made me ponder the phrase I used in the title. Something like "I love you like a fat kid loves cake." How dumb is it? I mean, most people love cake. Why wouldn't you love cake? (Or at least icing.) And my guess is that, for a fat kid, eating cake can be particularly fraught: This tastes good. It's so bad for me. I want to eat it. I shouldn't eat it because it'll make me fatter.

I hope those girls had a great day. I hope I just read a lot of my own feelings into that situation, and maybe that bigger girl had just come from IHOP and couldn't have eaten another bite, anyway. And I look forward to the day that I don't have to worry about a little girl's self-image at the hands of a cruel diet culture.

D and Mal at age 3 3/4

I came across this picture at my parents' the other day.

This is of D skating. I took it August 6, 2005, so this is basically the exact age Mal is now. By this point, D was skating like a pro, and Mal has never gone skating before.

That got me to thinking about some other things. At Mal's age, D had been in gymnastics for more than a year and a half.

Though you might have to trust me on that one.

And had also taken tae kwon do.

Testing for an orange belt.

And some tennis lessons.

Mal and I did 8 out of 10 Music Together classes, and he took one trial gymnastics class a few months ago. It was obvious that he wasn't ready. We're going to try a trial swimming class Thursday, but my prediction is that he will freak out and refuse to go into the water without me. I hope I'm wrong.

Also, at Mal's age...

We rode the log ride as much as we could, often getting off of the ride and getting right back on. Mal freaked out on the Ferris wheel at Kemah, but made it because I held him.

When I took this picture, D was watching the boat splash we'd just gotten off of. See the thumbs up? Mal screamed and cried and basically freaked out on the tilt-a-whirl.

Here, D is riding alone because I was too big to go on this kiddie ride. Mal not only HATES spinning (see tilt-a-whirl plus any other thing he's ever been on that spins), but there's NO WAY he'd get on something like this alone.

It's marked to me how different these children are. D was reading before 5; Mal shows no interest. Mal spends a lot more time in his imagination, both recreating scenes from movies, and making up stories. He continues to speak of his alien friend Abbey-A-Babbey when he is scared or wants to do something we can't do.

D was intrepid. Mal is trepidatious to the point that I've started carrying noise-cancelling earphones with me in my purse. He is suspicious of anything he thinks might be scary, and there's no talking him into even attempting it.

In addition to these differences, I ponder how D's become more anxiety-prone as a teenager. I wonder if Mal will become more self-assured as he matures, or if his fears will increase.

Neither is better. And I love them both so much. I am just finding that I have spent most of Mal's life reframing my expectations, because my tendency continues to be "At this age, D could..." and they're just very different kids.

But not totally different.