Sometimes life is about getting hurt and learning to get up again…
I remember when I was in grade 4 or so… seeing my aunt out on the playground during recess and running to her… I stumbled on the gravel and hit my forehead really hard… hard enough to go the ER and have them check me out. I was fine but I had the worst scrape on my forehead.
I remember being in grade school and hearing one of the snotty girl in my class making fun of my brother’s clothes… right in front of me.
I remember not being asked to a banquet (the SDA version of a dance)… and pretending it was ok.
Hurts… then there are the big ones.
My first broken heart.
The first time my parents let me down.
Child Labour.
Then it all changed.
Suddenly, when I became a mom, my hurts seems bareable compared to when one of my babes got hurt… physically or emotionally.
Sammy’s first shots. (I think those hurt me more than him).
Leaving Tyler at school for those couple of hours… JK… as he cried… every day for 6 weeks… and going to my car and crying my own tears.
Watching Zach having his appendix removed.
Here’s the thing… I never realized how much my heart would break as I tried to kiss their hurts away.
Last week, I watched Zach, as I was walking towards him during Track and Field, as he had just finished his big race. 800m? His face was in pain. The tears were just streaming down his face. I thought he was hurt.
He was hurt… he came in last after running his hardest. He gave it all he had. My heart hurt so much… I actually thought maybe I was having a heart attack. It sucks to not be good at something.
Now I am watching one of my boys struggle… really struggle. He has always been a big boy. Yet that is not what he would chose. He hates his bigness. Words… all those things that you can say don’t matter… He does not want to be big. Now in high school it matters. Who wouldn’t want to be one of those boys ( you know the obnoxious ones that walk around with the shirts off because they can…)?
Yesterday it was close to 100 Degrees Fahrenheit and my son had a sweat shirt on.. to hide in. We fought about it. I drove him to school and couldn’t help notice other kids doing the same thing.
I came home and wept.
My heart is breaking. I have a boy who is hurting so much and I can’t fix it.
(Pls… I know and we are working on diet, exercise and all that… but this is not the issue. This is how he is built.)
He has so diligently been working on “diet” while all around him folks eat the pizzas, ice creams, pop, etc. And he deprived himself of it all… Just to see the numbers go down on the scale.
I HATE that he can’t be a kid… and eat that treat without worrying or feeling guilty.
I hate that society is so focused on ones’ size. The comment is ALWAYS there… “Wow, he is a big boy!”
When your own grandparent comments on your size, in an ugly manner… how am I to convince him that my words matter not those mean ugly words?
I know the stats. I know that this is so serious. I know that along with this comes self esteem issues, comes depression and so much more scary stuff.
I thought I knew what pain was… but I didn’t… not until I am forced to watch this child that came from me… hurting … really hurting and I can’t put a bandaid on it.
I find myself begging God…
I find myself angry when I step on the scale and lose that pound (as much as I want this…) because really, I’d give that to him… if I could. I would take him unwanted weight and carry it if I could.
So… as we continue down this road together… I feel that pain, that sharp pain that seems to just spread… trying so hard to pass on that salve if only to dull the ache for him until…
Until what God?
Please… Help Me… Help Him.
Reema,
I cried looking at that picture and reading your words…my kiddo struggles with the same thing..he too was in tears on track and field day as he knew he would be last in his races. We just got a pool in our back yard and last night he was in tears again saying he wished he dared to swim without his shirt on…and this is in our our backyard!! He said he hates people to be able to see his ‘fat belly’. He too is just built like that. My heart breaks for him too.
oxox to both of you
Reema, I cried and cried when I read this. I couldn’t read it to Greg because I was crying too hard I feel for you. I feel for your child. I can totally relate when kids have things that we, as parents, cannot take a way. My son has a very unusual skin condition that embarrasses him like you wouldn’t believe. He has been to dermatologist, allergists, doctors, etc. He takes antihistamines daily……some days more than one at each dosing. Yet he still suffers from this crazy breakout. I totally understand about wanting to take on that condition for him so that he doesn’t have to suffer from it anymore. One day I was so angry at him because of his “unwillingness” to join in with family things, and in the time that I gave him my tirade, his skin had broken out from the stress and I wept realizing that I not only caused him to break out, but I also didn’t realize the severity of it that kept him locked up in his room all the time. We may not understand why, as parents, we are supposed to watch our own children hurt, but I’m sure that there is some lesson in there somewhere, for both us and our children. I love you, girl.
Reema,
My heart goes out to you. This blog really hit home with me. I recently experienced the same thing with Erin. There are a few girls that have been calling her fat. It’s hard as a parent to say I love you the way you are and have them accept and believe that they are great and don’t need to change. I have been concerned about my weight my whole life so I know how it feels, diet and exersise will help but you’re born with a body type and there is only so much that can change.
Oh! you really hurt, I remember 6 years ago suddenly American troops break our door and enter to our house, they attack to my father and tighten his hands, my 16 years old brother that recently thinking he becomes man try to protect us and went toward soldiers but they think he want to attack and shoot to his head. Oh, my mother, come to her son but another wild soldier knob with butt stock, and she went in coma.
I was shocked, do you think we cried or anybody saw our “tears”? No, The pain was more than any thing that you can imagen. That was absolut hurting, physically and emotionally.
If you think when your son become last in race or some one say fat to your child it is huring you or 2 hours away from your boy flows your tears you are realy lucky.
I write this just ask evrybody pray to God pains of people around the world be like you and not like mine. Amen!
@Once upon a time Iraq… Wow! Thank you for your comment. It left me speechless and I can’t even begin to imagine. Yes.. I will pray that we feel the pain… that surrounds us. You have touched me… thank you for commenting. Do you have a blog? I’d love to follow. xoxo
Yes, our society’s obsession with weight and looks is ridiculouly devastating to our youth.
I have a daughter. She, like many, was a little overweight as an older child in grade 6 & 7 – not fat, not even chubby – just a little more than some. What she didn’t understand was that when girls get their growth spurt around 13 or 14, this evens out.
But the magazines and tv shows and videos showed her people who were thin – really thin. All of the medical shows now on — aimed at 40- and 50-somethings — convinced her she was overweight. Websites told her how to lose it.
Two years ago, she spent a few months getting anorexic. It took us a few months to notice, and by then it was too late. She now sees doctors and counsellors to help her get better, and they’ve helped, but it’s a daily worry. We hate it, and we feel helpless.
In times like these we want to run away with our kids and never have to worry about other people’s opinions.
Though about you when I read this article…..
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/30/mother-in-law-emails_n_887888.html