NEDA Week: Body Image & Young Children

It's National Eating Disorders Week - a week to raise awareness and educate the public about these devastating and often fatal mental health issues. For those of you who are new to this blog space, I don't talk about it often, but I fought like hell for five years with an eating disorder that eventually landed me in heart failure. I'm not proud of it, and it's not something that's easy to talk about or wins me many fans, but that journey and that struggle is part of my testimony, so I own it. I worked hard to recover and move on, and by the grace of God (and thanks to an incredible team of therapists), I did.

I can finally say it no longer defines me, and I no longer feel shame in talking about it. I'm so thankful that anorexia was simply one chapter of many in my life. I was able to move on and turn a page to a new chapter, unlike so many women who fall victim to this terrible disease. Anorexia is the most fatal of all mental illnesses, and this week is a week to shed light on it.

It's time to talk about this.

If you haven't already read my full story, you can do so HERE. 

My battle may have been fought 15 years ago, but I daily have to make choices to ensure my family and I stay healthy. I've been reflecting a little bit lately on how I'm actively working to cultivate healthy body image, both in myself and in my children.

Being a mom, especially a young girl mom, the truth of the matter is that these issues start YOUNG. Like, REALLY young. So, I've been very strategic about the way I talk about food, exercise, and health since my children were born, and I thought it might be time to put it out there in the world. My prayer is that these action steps might help us re-frame the little things we do every day that can add up to big impact for our kids.  

Here's the scary truth: studies tell us that by the time a girl has turned 6, she will say that her ideal body size is smaller than her current frame. 

SIX. 

That's Kindergarten, y'all. My Kindergartener still sleeps with a monkey blanket every night, has Goofy on a shelf, and spills his milk at least three nights a week. These kids are straight babies, you guys.

I don't know about you, but I'm not about to go down this road without a fight. 

Another scary truth: I don't really think eating disorders can be prevented. At least, not FULLY prevented.

Recently, scientists have discovered that there is a genetic link to eating disorders, which can be a really scary fact for someone like me. BUT, here's what I know: just because my children may be more LIKELY to develop eating disorders than children whose mothers didn't have one, that doesn't mean I can't try to set them up for success. I can educate them and nurture them to develop a healthy relationship with food and their bodies in order to possibly prevent them from walking the road I walked. 

So, let's get practical...I am by no means a medical professional, but I do think there are some action steps we can take NOW, while our kiddos are still mold-able, that will shape their futures.

ACTION STEP: Drop the black and white talk.

No, I'm not talking about race here. What I mean by drop the black and white talk is to drop the notion that certain foods are either all GOOD or all BAD. Drop the labels. I think many of our children grow up in homes where parents are living in extremes - they hear their parents talk of being "good" when they're dieting or being "bad" when they're cheating. When parents bemoan their unhealthy choices or make comments about how they have to punish themselves at the gym for eating so poorly the night before, children begin to feel that they are bad people for eating certain foods. We need our children to understand that what they eat and who they are are mutually exclusive. 

So, my encouragement here would be to re-frame the language. The truth is that unless you have food allergies or specific dietary restrictions, all foods can and should be enjoyed in moderation. Let's ditch this all or nothing mentality. Instead, I suggest we talk positively about what healthy food and exercise do for us. Rather than complain about our jeans feeling tight, let's emphasize how we feel so energetic after running that 5K or taking that yoga class. Rather than whining about how our "bad" lunch at Chick-fil-A makes us bloated, let's talk about how sweet that apple tasted or how that salad gave me vitamins to make me strong. Let's highlight our positive choices for the ways they make us feel and what they do for us, rather than focusing on the negative choices we've made. 

ACTION STEP: Focus on strength for adults and growth for kids.

One of my absolute favorite things to talk about with my kids is how strong they are. Nothing gets my boys more fired up than showing off their muscles. We talk a lot in our house about how healthy food, exercise, and sleep helps us grow big and strong. Brooks has even picked up on it already, and after eating a carrot yesterday, walked over to me and said, "Me go up up up, higher and higher, right Mama?" He beamed with pride when I assured my tiniest boy that yes, his carrots did make him grow bigger and taller. (Just nobody tell him he's still in the second percentile for height, mmmm-kay?) When my kids step on the scale in the bathroom or at the doctor's office, never have I not cheered for them. No matter what that thing says, we celebrate it because it shows us how much we've grown. And when they want me to step on that scale for them? You'd better believe I join in their cheering, no matter what number I'm looking at or what the insecurities are telling me.

Two or three times a week, we head up to our neighborhood gym to work out (okay, okay, and to use the free childcare...), and I'm often asked by the little two why we have to come to the gym. And every single week, my answer is the same: because exercise keeps Mommy healthy and strong. Never once have I said anything about weight or my jeans or how much queso I ate the night before. I may have had those reasons in my head, but you'd better believe I wasn't planting those seeds for my kids.

All they need to know at this young age is that exercise is healthy and makes us strong. Period. Don't make it complicated. Because truthfully? It's not.

ACTION STEP: Eat meals and exercise as a family. 

You saw this one coming a mile away, didn't you? But, y'all, it's SO true! Going on family walks or bike rides is not only great for bonding, but it's so good for cultivating a healthy view of exercise! When you're going on a walk as a family to the park or exploring a new hiking path together, there's a sense of adventure and fun there. We WANT our kiddos to find exercise fun! It shouldn't be seen as punishment! I can tell you right now, having a child with limited mobility due to a broken leg, that the chance to walk or ride around the neighborhood is a gift! Carter would give you the boot off his broken leg (literally) if you told him he could go on a long bike ride tomorrow. We need our children to see exercise as a pleasurable experience and something to look forward to, and there's no better way to cement that than family outings.

Before I go into family meals, let me just preface by saying I GET IT. With 832 different schedules and practices and homework and jobs, I know this one's hard. And it certainly doesn't have to happen every night...but at least a few nights a week, enjoying a meal together is critical to developing a healthy relationship with food. There is so much more that happens at a dinner table than dinner. There is eye contact, conversation, taking turns, laughter, and, okay, a little bit of chaos if yours are little like mine. BUT! BUT! It's worth fighting through the chaos to share a healthy meal when you can. And bonus points if your kids help you with the cooking!

Last, but not least...

ACTION STEP: Just stop talking.  

Yes, I know, this sounds harsh, but it's true. For the love, people...STOP TALKING ABOUT APPEARANCES ALL THE TIME. And by this I mean your body AND other people's bodies. We have SUCH a fixation in our society with our physical appearances. We fixate on our hair, we gossip when someone has put on weight, we constantly whine about our wrinkles and stretch marks.

And I'm calling it out today: STOP.

Our bodies were created to DO. When God created us thousands of years ago, His primary focus was not on how we looked, but what we could DO with our bodies. We were created to work, to learn, to carry children, to feed children, to travel with our families. We were supposed to feed and nurture that body to keep it strong so we could continue to work. We were never meant to focus so much on how that body looked...but that's part of our fall as human beings.

That stretched out tummy that now resembles a frowning face? It grew a human. Or two. Or twelve if you're a Duggar.
Those saggy boobs? It kept a few tiny people alive for a year.
That thigh gap you constantly covet? Screw it! Your thighs ran a half marathon.

Enough complaining, you guys. Enough fixating. Enough battling something that was never meant to be fought in the first place. Let's get over it already.

And here's why this is so critical when you have little ears around...they hear everything. And repeat everything.

The other night, my husband was telling me a story about something scary (or maybe exciting...I can't be sure as I was only half-listening...) that happened at work, and without thinking, I replied, "Oh, damn!" Can you guess what the next two words out of our sweet baby boy's mouth were? Yep. You know it. He looked right in my eyes and said, "Oh, damn."

   I'll leave my "Mother of the Year" trophy on the door step for collection.

When you look in the mirror and verbally criticize those laugh lines on your face with your little girl standing at your feet, do you really think she's not paying attention? She's looking at you, who in her eyes is the most beautiful woman in the world, and you're feeding her negativity. Whether she's aware of it in the moment or not, you're teaching her how to be a woman, and what she just learned is this: women criticize themselves.

Is that really the message we want her to learn?

I want to see my little girl looking in the mirror admiring how strong she is, how much she's grown, or, better yet, moving her focus away from the mirror and into the eyes of people. I want to teach her that it's more important to look out than to look in. I want her to learn that we focus on others, not fixate on ourselves.

  So, those are my thoughts for this NEDA week. We can plant seeds now that can create change later, and I hope you'll join me as we fight for our kids.

If you or someone you know is struggling in this area, I'd highly encourage you to check out https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/ or find a local therapist who can help you. If you'd like to contact me directly to help you find resources in your area, you may always do so at awezell@gmail.com.

Fearless Surrender

Surrender.

Let go.

Be open.

These are words that I've been grappling with in my heart the last few weeks. Words that I know all too well can make or break the big decisions in my life. 

If you've been around this little space very long, you know I'm a self-professed control freak. I've made no secret of the fact that I'm a big fan of making my own plans and just praying that God will approve of them. In my own head, I am the expert on me and know what's best for me. I know what feels safe and comfortable, and I do not let go of my comfort zone or security easily. After all, I am the one who has to deal with the consequences of my choices, right? Why would I want to let that go?

But lately? Every time I sit down to write or listen to a podcast or read, I seem to be hit from all sides with the word surrender.

Truth: I'm a planner by nature. But not the type of planner who gets caught up in the details. I used to be, back in the days where I wrote out my plan for the day to the minute, including snack breaks and travel time to and from events. (No, I'm not joking. I actually did that for many years in college.) 

Nowadays, I'm more of a vision girl. I like the big picture. I tend to live in a constant state of "What's next?" and have been told on more than one occasion that I can get tunnel-vision when I'm knee-deep in a project. If you need to get something accomplished, I'm your girl. I won't eat, won't sleep, won't stop until I've moved from point A to point B. The problem with that in my life right now, above and beyond the incessant needs of all my little people, is that I have no idea what my life is going to look like in a year. 

And truthfully? 

That's scaring me out of my mind.

In high school, I was dreaming about college.

In college, I was dreaming about starting my career.

In my first year job, I was dreaming about getting married.

On our honeymoon, I was dreaming having a family.

On my son's first birthday, I was dreaming about giving him a sibling.

Once his sister was over her 12 MONTH episode of colic (yes, it actually did last a full year), we began praying about adoption.

Once Brooks came home, we began the process to build a house.

Do you see the pattern?

I've spent the last 20 years dreaming of what's next.

And now, we're blissfully moving through our life as a family of five with no planned changes on the horizon, and I find myself literally paralyzed with fear at times because I don't know what's ahead.        

I know for many people, this would be a state of bliss. It would feel like a moment to breathe and soak in the present and slow down for a lot of you. Some days, I see it that way; others, I fight to feel like I have purpose.

So I find myself in a season of surrender. 

I don't know what's ahead for me. Is God calling me to a new job? Is He calling me to simply take a seat at the table I've spent the last 15 years building and soak it all in? Does He have something ahead that isn't even on my radar yet? 

As hard as this season is, I know that opening my hands to what He has in store for my future is all I can do. He's asking me to tap the breaks, to trust, and to believe that His plans are good...even if my control issues want me to take the helm now more than ever. 

So, for now, I'm letting go of that white-knuckle grip on my trajectory and opening my heart to this next chapter. It doesn't have a title yet, but I know it'll be one for the books.    

A Sorta Post-Adoption Update

So, I really had no intention at all of writing many post-adoption posts after our first year home with Brooks, but everyone who knows our family in real life has been commenting lately on just how much he's changed and grown over the last few months that I just feel like this is a little bit necessary for documentation purposes! 

Before I dive in to where we are today, I want to take a look back at my last post-adoption update which was at one year home...actually, scratch that...it was at 9 months home...because apparently I'm not good at the consistency thing. ;) 

At that point, Brooks was 22 pounds, stringing two, sometimes three, words together, had just been weaned off his steroids for asthma, and was about to start preschool for the first time.

Oh, how times have changed.

On January 6, we celebrated 397 days with Brooks in our family. He spent 396 days without one, so as of that day, we could say he had been a beloved son longer than he was in an orphanage. Praise God. 

Nowadays, not only has this boy FILLED OUT in a serious way (I'd bet he's upwards of 25 pounds), but we now have full conversations with him asking questions and speaking in almost sentences that consist of several (up to 8ish) words. He talks like a caveman but for not quite two-and-a-half, we're pretty dang impressed! 

Examples I heard today:

 "Me say night-night Carter Kate-Kate."  

"What you doing now Mommy?"

"Me go gym with Carter and Mommy." 

"What happened, Daddy?" 

"Me happy when we jump outside. With Carter. And Kate Kate. And Daddy. And Mommy. Everybody jump!" 

And my absolute favorite:

"How you doin?" 

Yes, he actually says that. I'm raising a future Joey Tribbiani. 

Hearing his little thoughts and having little conversations with this guy is such an absolute joy. 

Sweet story from today: my kids like to play "Magic Eight Ball," which basically means they roll an Eight Ball back and forth and sing this song Kate made up until someone ends up with it. That person makes a wish and asks the eight ball for an answer. No lie - every single time it ends up with Brooks making a wish, he wishes for someone in our family. "Me want Mommy. Me want Daddy. Me want Carter and Kate Kate." It literally makes me want to cry every time. And no matter what that dang eight ball actually says, I tell him he got it. Forever. And every time I tell him that, he says, "Hooray!" and asks for hugs. I mean...I die. 

So, let's chat school since that hasn't really been talked about in this space yet. I'm going to do another whole post on how we transitioned him into preschool, why we did it when we did, and our experience with that, but today, five months into preschool, this little guy is rockin' it. He knows his class, he loves his teachers, and he thrives on the routine of it. Tonight, he was listing all of the friends' names in his class (and some are really difficult to say!), and he was talking about how excited he was to see them tomorrow. 

And as backwards as this might sound, I actually think putting him in preschool has strengthened our attachment. Because here's the thing: a child's brain learns through repetition. If you've ever watched a young child play, they typically repeat patterns over and over and over again. Or they sing the same song over and over and over again. As annoying as that can be to parents, that's actually doing what they need to do: learning! So, although it might sound odd that dropping him off in a classroom three days a week would strengthen our attachment, he's finding security in the repetition of drop-off and pick-up. Mom leaves, Mom comes back. Mom leaves, Mom comes back. Mom leaves, Mom comes back. Over and over and over again. We are so proud of how well he's transitioned. 

The last thing that we've really seen develop lately is this boy's incredible sense of compassion. If anyone is laying down, upset, hurt, or crying, this little guy is the FIRST to go pat them on the back, ask them what happened, or tell them that "it's okay." He gives lots of hugs, hands out ice packs and bandaids, and loves the mess out of his people. I really don't know where that came from, but it is my very favorite thing about him right now. He's a special one.

Okay, that's it for today. Happy Tuesday, y'all! 

On New Year's Day...

January 1. 

I love a fresh start, don't you? I love opening up a fresh planner, turning to a new month, and dreaming of the possibilities. I also love the thought of improving on the month or year past and setting goals for myself, personally and professionally, as we move into a new chapter.

So, let's chat goals. I am what the personality tests like to call a "lion," which basically means I'm really good at the seeing the big picture or the end goal, and I can get focused to a fault when I'm trying to meet a goal or accomplish something. The problem with lions though is that we often lack the discipline and time management to work out the details that will allow us to achieve our goal without leaving the rest of our life in chaos. We're really BAD at working out the little details when we've set our eyes on the prize, so to speak. 

One of my faults? Constantly thinking about the NEXT project or NEXT goal or NEXT big thing I'm going to do, which often makes me miss out on some of the everyday, routine joy of whatever season of life I currently find myself. I'm always pushing for the next best thing without relishing in the here and now. 

The thing is that I really love the adrenaline rush and sense of accomplishment I feel when I've stepped into new territory or done something I never dreamed I could do. There's nothing that sets me more on fire than working toward a goal or dream that I really believe in. And that's not ALL bad.

The catch-22 though? I've been convicted lately that a lot of my drive to constantly improve and grow stems from a lack of contentment. If I'm being totally honest, I think at times, I constantly push myself because I don't feel like I'm enough. And at times, I feel as if I'm too much. 

And, I'm willing to bet that sometimes, you feel that way, too.

But here's the thing, friends: if I never did another thing, and if I never accomplished another goal in my whole life, the Lord says I'm enough. That doesn't mean I can sit on my couch and binge Netflix until He calls me home, but it DOES mean that I can be content with exactly who He created me to be. Because the best news of the entire gospel is this: HE DID IT FOR ME. Jesus did on the cross what I could never do. He died on the cross and what He did, not what I do, makes me a citizen of heaven. I don't have to continue to prove my worth or continue striving to achieve anyone's approval because He did that for me. He says I'm enough.

And SO ARE YOU.

For the last 15 years or so, I've given myself a challenge to start the new year. Three years ago, I started this blog. Two years ago, I finally said yes to becoming an Ambassador with Noonday Collection after sitting on the decision for 9 months. Last year, I set out to qualify for a trip with the company to meet our artisan partners. 

I'm thrilled that all three of those ventures have been successful, but this year? I really feel as if the Lord is asking me to slow it down. Soak it in. Enjoy the ages my kids are and just relish this season of time with them. I've got so much already planned for this year that I truthfully just don't need to add anything more to it. This year, I'm enjoying the fruits of what I've worked for the last three - I'm visiting our artisan partners, we're taking several family vacations, and I'm continuing to write in this little space I've created here. And I'm calling that good enough.  

So, for 2018, my goal is contentment. 

Less looking out at what the world says I need to be doing and more looking in at my family and friends. 

Less looking down at my phone and more looking up at my kids. 

Less focus on the things that are ahead and more focus on the things I have right in front of me.

What's your goal for 2018? Tell me in the comments! Happy New Year, friends! 

We Needed Him

This week, we celebrated one year as a family of five. On November 14, 2016, Brooks joined our family in China, and we will never be the same. All week I've wanted to think of something I could post to share with you how much he means to us, but I think the guest post I submitted to "No Hands But Ours" last week sums it up perfectly, so if you didn't catch it there, you can read it now. I hope it encourages you to trust the Lord in wherever He's leading you because His plans are ALWAYS better and for our good.

One year.

I still can’t believe it’s been an entire year since Brooks became ours. One year since a tiny, pale, very sick little boy reached for two strangers in a musty Chinese conference room. One year as a family of five. One year of learning and adapting and fighting for a little boy born over 7,000 miles away from the place he now calls home.

I’ll never forget my husband tapping me on the shoulder that day as I was completing yet another form where I promised to take proper care of Brooks. Very calmly and quietly, he simply stated, “There he is.” I looked up as three women breezed through the door carrying our 17-pound baby boy and headed straight for us. They knew exactly who they were looking for and within ten seconds of entering the room, one of his nannies was standing next to us. I barely had time to throw my husband’s phone at our guide so she could record the moment. He then reached his arms out for me to hold him, and a collective “Awww!” filled the room from the nannies and other adoptive parents waiting to meet their children. 

His nannies smiled and reassured him as he began to interact with us. He had been dressed to the nines in a beautiful four-piece panda suit, and it appeared that they had even dressed him in new shoes and sent along a favorite rattle. The nannies giggled as they shared with us that he had been saying “mama” and “baba” on the van ride to meet us, and they beamed with pride as our 13-month-old son showed off his skills as a new walker.

Fifteen months of paperwork, prayer, and tears were behind us, and our whole lives as his parents were beginning.

If I’m being honest, up until that hand-off, I’d been terrified of this moment. I’d spent the last four months staring at the two pictures we had, re-reading all six pages of his paperwork, and trying desperately to create meaning out of each and every word we knew about him. I spent many countless nights staring at my bedroom ceiling worrying about whether or not his medical issues, which, according to the file, seemed so incredibly minor and insignificant, were actually accurate. I had read so many stories of families who brought home very different children than they had expected, and I worried about all the things that his orphanage could’ve missed. 

Would he attach easily? 

How many therapies would he need? 

Will his brother and sister accept him as their brother? 

What will people say when they see a Chinese child with Caucasian parents? 

How will we communicate with him?

The list went on and on.

I knew we’d been called to adoption, and I had a peace in my heart that this child was my son. None of that had ever been in question, but the fear of the unknown consumed me. On that day, in that stale conference room that reeked of burnt coffee and cigarettes, something in me changed. As that bundled baby boy accepted puff after puff after puff out of my hands, I felt myself slowly exhale. In that moment, I realized that he, just like my other two, was just a normal baby. He was going to do all of the typical baby things his brother and sister did, even if it looked a little bit different or happened in a different timing. Developmental delays, premature birth, anemia…or not…he was just a little boy who needed a family. 

Why had I been so afraid of him?

Over the last year, we’ve learned a lot about the little boy who once kept me up at night. He sings a mean “Wheels on the Bus,” points out every airplane that passes, and throws half his food on the floor, just like his older brother did. He loves candy, hates milk, and fights us getting strapped into the car seat, just like his big sister did. He lives for goldfish and cars and says, “Mine!” if you try to take his toy, just like every other toddler I know.

The past year has been one of growth and change. We now manage Brooks’s asthma, which was a surprise to us, but after our initial few months home, we seemed to get in a groove with his medications. His head circumference, once a little bit of a concern to doctors, has leveled off and his anemia is completely gone. We are medically stable for the moment, and for that we are so grateful.

Today, Brooks is thriving in preschool and has begun naming colors, shapes, and engaging us in games and songs. He knows his mommy, daddy, brother, and sister, and we look forward to enrolling our strong little guy in gymnastics in the spring. He is the happiest and friendliest little guy you’ll ever meet and excels at greeting everyone he passes, stranger or not.

I think the biggest thing I’ve learned this year is simply this: we needed him. Not just another child…but him. When God called our family to adoption three years ago, I don’t believe it was for any other reason than for this boy. Brooks completes our family in a way we never knew we needed, and I thank God every day for not letting my fear be bigger than my faith. He is our peacemaker, our funny guy, and lets his big sister smother him like the living baby doll she always wanted.

There were so many moments throughout our adoption process where I wanted to throw in the towel. There were moments when the agency was invoicing us for an amount larger than what we had available to give them, or when the doctors told us his head circumference could indicate a neurological problem, or when we were asked yet again why we weren’t just trying for “our own” baby. It would’ve been easy to say no and walk away when things got tough, but I think back now at all we would’ve missed and am so glad we stayed the course. Many people like to applaud us and tell us how lucky Brooks is to have us, but the truth is that we needed him much more than he ever needed us. H

e’s a gift to us who is going to do BIG things in his life…we’re just the lucky ones who get the front row seats.