Watch the video below. At least the first half.
Greg Giraldo. One of my favorite comedians of all time.
Over
the past few weeks I've been doing quite a bit of research on weight loss,
nutrition, and obesity. Know what? We're a country full of fat fucks.
Know what else? Our children, the leaders of tomorrow, the future, and our
shining stars...are sadly just as unhealthy. That bothers me.
I
don't have kids, not sure if I want kids, rarely think about kids with the
exception of my niece who is a thankfully at a very healthy weight. However, since
I've been doing all this research on getting healthy, I've grown slightly concerned
about all my little chunky comrades across the U.S. who at some point
during their back-to-school shopping this year will take a moment and wonder,
"What's husky mean? And why does it say it on my jeans?" I
understand. I used to be a fat little kid. Truth be told, I still am in some
ways. If all goes well and I lose some lbs, no matter how many, part of me will
always be a fat little kid.
I am not qualified to give advice about how to talk to your child
or any child about getting healthy. What I can do is tell you what it might be like for them.
For me it started when I was really little. I remember being like four
or five, and sitting in my pediatrician's office. Dr. Landau. He would
always come into the room and the first thing he would do was pinch what is
now my gut and say, "Whoa, what's this? Guess there's a spare tire in
there." Every fucking visit. Poke my fat, insult me a little, get a
vaccination shot, hand me some candy on the way out.
I have dreams, fantasies really, of being able to travel back in
time into my own consciousness. The same way they did in that shitty movie, The Butterfly Effect. I would enter own mind with my
thoughts as they are now, only inside the five year old version of myself. I
would go back to a doctor visit day. When that bald schmuck walked in the room
and pinched my side, before he even got the first flicker of an insult out of
his mouth, I'd raise my pudgy finger and let him have it. "HEY!! I'M
FIVE!!! FIVE, YOU INCONSIDERATE OVERPAID PIECE OF SHIT!!! YOU'RE DOING
PERMANENT DAMAGE TO ME!!!"
It wasn't just him though. I come from a big extended family. Uncles,
Older Cousins, and family friends loved giving me shit about my weight as a
kid. I guess they thought it was harmless, maybe just a bunch of bullies who
never grew up themselves. When you're little though and any adult you look up
to makes fun of you...it sucks. It sucks badly. At that age you have no way to
defend yourself. No ways to strike back or even at the very least make some
kind of joke where you can shift the attention somewhere else. You just
take the hit. Then you take your blanket, a juice box, and a half dozen
Dunk-a-roos over to the television and hunker down for the rest of the day because the Super Friends aren't giving me any crap about my weight right now.
I
was primarily raised by my mother and my grandmother. Although I know for a
fact that they were concerned about my weight, I'm not sure they ever really
knew how to deal with it without hurting my feelings or depriving me of food.
We're Italian by the way. If you didn't know it, my people equate food with
love and my family loved me very much. So much so that the extent of talking to
me about nutrition was, "Honey, you need to stop eating so much junk food.
It's not good for you. Do you understand? Good, now have another plate of
lasagna."
My
weight, especially now, is not my family's fault. Not even close. Also, whatever references I may make to my family or my childhood in this blog, now and forever know this; I had an incredible upbringing and was raised by wonderful people who I love very, very much. My
biggest gains came in my twenties. I was long out of the house and on my own.
Plus, back then childhood obesity wasn't the epidemic it is today, especially in
a place like Pennsylvania. If a kid was big back then, he or she was just big.
Noting to get crazy over. Just keep an extra box of popsicles in the
freezer and all is well. Things are different now though. This is a very real
problem our kids today are facing. These unhealthy kids will grow up to be
unhealthy adults and then they'll have to start a blog when they turn thirty to
keep them in line about how they take care of themselves. Lemme tell ya,
there's probably a better way.
Again, I don't have kids and I know very little about them. What I do
know, is that it's much easier to adopt healthy habits early on in life. The
older you get, the harder it becomes.
If there’s
a little one in your fam with a weight problem, here’s my advice on how to deal
with it based solely on my own experience.
a. Don't make fun
of them. They're KIDS. Got that? They don't have
the intellectual capability to handle it. No matter how harmless
you think that joke might be, in the end all you're saying to them is,
"Hey, you're different than everyone else and not in a good way."
b. Get them
involved in something athletic. Football, basketball, soccer, dancing. (I was
required to take a ballet class in college because I was a theater major. Think
what you want, those broads have some rockin bodies.) Like I said in an earlier post,
I wrestled for one year. Even though I
was absolutely terrible, I dropped 40lbs in one season without
missing a sandwich. Team sports, wish I played more of em.
c. If you're their
parent or guardian, give them the best choices you can food-wise. No
matter how old we get, the food we eat when we're young will stay with us and
provide us with some sense of comfort as adults. One of my all-time favorite
foods is the Egg McMuffin. Why? My grandparents would take me to McDonald's
every Thursday morning when I was a kid. Whenever I take a bite of one, and I haven't
since I started this blog, it takes me right back there. People who eat
when they're stressed, which is what overweight adults tend to do, go right for
that thing from childhood that makes them feel safe. Let that thing be apple slices
with almond butter, not chips and soda.
d. Set the best example you can. I know that's easy for someone like me to say, I can barely take care of a house plant, but do your best. It's for your kids.
That's all I got. Like
I said, not an expert. But I can’t keep a blog called The Fat Kid Chronicles and
not address this major problem at least once. Want advice from some experts? Follow
the links below and then talk with your family physician.
Okay, now back to
iPhone Apps and Movie Clips.
Happy Wednesday
everyone.
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