"Where Does the Fat Go?"

Liv has a great Dad. She is very blessed to have a Dad so active in her life. There are so many children in situations like ours who do not. This means that twice a month, she stays with him from Wednesday night until Monday morning. Liv got home yesterday and we were so happy to see each other.

Sometimes, on the days Liv gets home, she is fine until she goes to bed. Then she wakes up, crying, wanting to sleep with me because she “misses me.” It’s difficult to explain why she “misses me” when she has spent the evening with me. It is a sense of “missing me” on a more primal level. My child has pretty much slept with me her whole life. It is part of what makes our bond so strong. Despite the urgings of others, I have chosen to go with the philosophy of the “family bed” when she so chooses. Now that she is getting older, she is in her own bed far more often. I have created rules around when she is allowed to come into bed with me. Weekends are Ok. Early mornings, as long as she is the one to hit the snooze button, are OK. Yes, that is somewhat self-serving, but hey, what else do we have children for?

Last night, Liv wanted to come into my bed. Not only did she want to come into my bed though, she wanted to have one of our “midnight talks.” I have already warned you I am not a “normal mother.” What normal mother occasionally, on bright nights and full moons, will take her daughter for a walk to see the stars? We did not do that last night. Liv did have some revelations, including “I love our midnight talks, Mommy,” to share with me last night. I was exhausted last night and really had wanted a full night’s sleep.

I was not ready for the alarm to go off this morning. Surprisingly, aside from her sixteen minute shower during which she belted a medley of songs from Sister Act, she was remarkably fast in getting ready this morning. Everything was pretty speedy – including the chatter.

On the other hand, I felt I was doing everything in slow motion. I stood in the shower grateful for just a few moments of silence to get myself together. I contemplated the notion of finding a company to formulate caffeine infused conditioner to soak into my brain so I would emerge from every shower ready to face the day. Liv, just wanting to chat some more, came into the bathroom to talk to me all about the Harry Potter book she is reading.

Note to self: It is time to buy a lock for the bathroom door.

Second note to self: Print off the Spark Notes of Harry Potter so I can contribute intelligently to the conversation and Liv continues to think her mother is brilliant. She can learn the truth when she is older.

As I emerged from the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, Liv looked at me with a rather odd expression on her face. She said “Mom, that’s pretty cool.” I said “What?” She said “The towel fits all the way around you now.”

This began to perk me up. I saw potential in this comment to redeem my morning. That is the kind of mother I am.

I said “What do you mean?” She said “Well, before, you were…well you still kind of are…but anyway the regular towel didn’t fit around you.” I put the most puzzled look on my face I could muster and said “I don’t understand what you are saying.” She turns red and says ”Oh snot…Mommy…you are still fat but the towel fits around you. You are losing more weight. You are not using the beach ones.” She began to say “You know I love you no matter how big….” as I said “I can’t believe you think I am…” She said “Mommy, uggg…I am TRYING to give you a compliment.” At that, I smiled and said “I know, I just wanted to make you squirm…I love that the towel fits better around me too. Thank you for noticing – not that you should be bugging me in the bathroom…” She rolled her eyes at me and stormed out of the room muttering under her breath “Really, God? Come on….”

A few moments later, she came back and said “Mom, (note the use of the term Mom when she is not backpedaling out of a situation) when you lose weight, where DOES all the fat go? And it’s not like you “lose” it. You don’t misplace it. You don’t want to find it again…”

Thank God it was time to walk to the bus stop…