Puzzling it Out

March 25, 2008 at 8:59 am 2 comments

One of my great pleasures over the Easter Weekend (I mean, besides the joy of the Resurrection; he is risen indeed! Alleluia!) was watching Ruth play. We did puzzles together in the church nursery during Daddy’s choir rehearsal, and then we got NEW puzzles for home on Easter Morning. (That Bunny, he’s right on top of things!)

She is awesome and hilarious and a little bit scary to watch (I suspect I’ll lose the ability to outsmart my kid sometime next month). She methodically picks up each puzzle piece, looks for a likely empty space, tries it in a few orientations, and if she can’t make it fit easily she puts it aside and tries another piece. It doesn’t take long until everything is sorted and she’s crowing , “I did it!” and moving on to the next puzzle. (Which was also the last puzzle, I may need to donate some new puzzles to the Church nursery).

Not a bad problem-solving strategy, all in all. Try something, see if it works. If it doesn’t, set it aside for reconsideration later. If it does, celebrate a little.

In some ways, I can see myself doing the same thing. But not so effectively. My husband thinks that I’m trying to hard with this Fat Acceptance piece, trying to force it into place. He may be right; I let myself get pulled into it with my Dad at Easter dinner. I want to tear my hair out when he says, almost verbatim, “Everybody knows that fat is unhealthy. Calories in, calories out. It’s as simple as that”. Mom, on the other hand, wants to play both sides. She gives us a box of Girl Guide Cookies (which in Canada come in one kind: row of chocolate sandwich cookies, row of vanilla). Yum, cookies.  She then tells my husband that the vanilla ones are for me, since they have 80 fewer calories than the chocolate. (She must be working off different nutritional information than what I can find online, I’d check the box but it’s been incorporated into the “stash” of desk-chocolate that keeps me going for lunch at his office). How you can hand me a box of cookies, while simultaneously telling me I’m definitely not to enjoy the cookies escapes me.

Right.  Puzzles.

So here’s the piece in my hand today: I have an appointment with my OB this afternoon, and he’s going to weigh me.  And I know that that will be in my mind when I decide if I’ll have a muffin before my in-service training today.   And it’ll be in my mind at lunch.  And how’s this for messed up: even though I have to present a case study for peer scrutiny this afternoon, its my doc’s comment on some scale number that has me anxious.

So it would seem that “relationship with the scale” is a piece that I can’t quite fit into place yet.  If I were as smart as my daughter, I’d just set it aside and deal with it later.

I hope that with age, comes wisdom- if not smarts.  She, in her two-year-old need to “I do it! My turn!” banished me to a chair on the opposite side of the room, as punishment for trying to help.  I can’t do it alone.  Which is partly why I read the fatosphere every day, and write much, much less often.  So I’ll post this, and then I’ll read someone else’s words about how its a journey, and starting on it matters, and I don’t have to have it all figured out.  And that will help.

(And I’ll build an elaborate fantasy about banishing my mommy to a chair on the opposite side of the room, during one of her misguided attempts to help).

And when faced with a muffin, I’ll take a minute and think about whether or not I’m actually hungry, and try to make that more important than an impending weigh-in.

I have a lot of faith that eventually, this will all fit together.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized.


2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Jocelyne  |  March 25, 2008 at 7:24 pm

    Alleluia! Your bunny sounds similar to ours who brought crayons and colouring books and cheap dreadful chocolate to the children and little tiny delicious Lindor eggs to the mommy… that bunny, he’s clever.

    As an aside – my OB refused to show you the scale… you went in, peed in the cup & wrote your name on it and stood on the scale so that the nurse could see your weight. I never even thought about being weighed at the appointments… strange.

  • 2. So Smart! « Ad Imaginem Dei  |  November 14, 2008 at 1:25 pm

    […] 14, 2008 Ruth was working on a new puzzle. Lots of fun for her, and even more fun for me. Because now, puzzles come with running commentary: […]

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