Recently one of the lovely ladies on the forum suggested using appetizer flatware to eat with, because it is smaller than regular flatware, yet more dignified than eating with baby silverware. I agree, I would not be totally thrilled with having to eat all my meals off of a fork with a cartoon character on it. I combined that idea with another idea from another lovely lady, which was doing a "trial-run" of sorts with an imaginary band. (The people on this forum are so creative and so smart!) So I went out and bought an appetizer set with forks, spoons, plates and bowls, and have been using them to eat with lately. Well, I have been using the forks and spoons. Well, when I have been able to eat, I have used the forks and spoons. I just got over a nasty virus that acted almost exactly like strep throat, and so was on a liquid-and-popsicle diet for over a week out of pure necessity.

I know that it's pretty early in the process yet, but I want to make sure that I get used to taking things slowly. In the past, "slow" was not in my vocabulary when it came to food. I would wolf down a plate full of food before my brain could even register it, then go back and get seconds just so I could taste it. Through a slow process and lots of therapy, I started changing my habits and have now gotten to the point where I can eat like a "normal" person for the most part. When I am stressed, I still battle with the urge to eat as much as possible in the shortest amount of time. But I have so many reasons to change, and so changing I am. Slowly, but still.

One of the biggest reasons I have to do all this changing is my sweet baby boy. He just turned three in October, and he is a little sponge. Everything we do, he picks it up, whether we think he is paying attention or not. So how does someone like me raise a child who doesn't have a seriously unhealthy relationship with food?

I have come to the realization that I have to lead by example and change the relationship I have with food. I have been working with my therapist to try and change my habits, as well as deal with the underlying issues that caused me to form those habits in the first place. I try not to reward him with food or candy, but at the same time I don't make anything off-limits either. Don't get me wrong, I don't let him eat a bag of M&M's right before bedtime, but if he wants a few of them during the day that's fine with me. I also don't push him to finish all the food on his plate, which was a HUGE struggle for me. I was a product of the "clean your plate because there's starving children in Africa" mindset, and I don't want to pass that on to him. We just make sure to tell him that he doesn't have to eat it all, but he can't expect to say he's done with his dinner and then eat a bunch of junk food. So now he eats what he feels comfortable eating, and if he's still hungry later he can have a healthy snack. And now that I am going through the process of being banded, I am telling him about how it's important to stay active and be mindful of what you are eating.

I sat him down and had a little talk with him about how our bodies are gifts that God has given us, and how it's important to take care of them. I said that I hadn't realized what a great thing God had done for me, and I didn't take care of my body like I should have. So now God has shown me a path to take that will help me make my body healthy again so that I can play with him and take care of him like I was meant to. I tried to make it as relatable as I could, but I didn't think he was paying attention. Until yesterday, that is. He came up to me while I was sitting on the couch, put his little hands on my belly, and said "Mommy, you going to go see the doctor God showed you and he going to make your belly smaller so you can play with me?"

So now I have another thing to add to my list of reasons to have the surgery: I have the responsibility of having a little pair of eyes watching everything I do, and I am responsible for shaping his ideas about his weight and his body and how he takes care of himself. It is a heavy responsibility to bear, but I know that he is worth it.