- My knee hurt. My knee hurt a great deal. I am now walking my daughter (barring torrential rain although we did do that one morning) to and from school on the days that she goes, and I need to be able to do that. If the knee hurt, I didn't Wii.
- We painted our kitchen for 3 days this past weekend. While I opted for the high parts so that I would be standing upright rather than crouched, 3 days up and down the stepladder, paint roller and brush in hand constituted a workout in my books.
- I didn't want to. There's the truth. I lost my motivation because I'm not seeing results. I know that part of it is medication which has a side effect of weight gain. The fact that I haven't gained weight is a good thing. I haven't lost any either. It's hard to stay motivated without tangible results, especially when I share the house with a man who has lost 24 lbs and counting doing basically the same things that I'm doing.
- I was drumming up business, and that was a higher priority than the tree pose.
- I dug out the Balance Board this morning, and managed to do 20 minutes before the knee complained. It's a start. I'm not going to push any more because pain is not a good thing. I don't care if the wee Wii chastises me for being away for 4 days. I needed the time away to re-focus. So suck it up, little balance board, I'm doing the best I can.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Not Another Day-the Life Intervenes Update
I've fallen off the wee Wii this past week. For the first time since July, I went 4 consecutive days without pulling out the Balance Board. Why?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Milestones
My little girl started school today. With her ladybug backpack and lunch bag, her unicorn top and socks, she marched through the door to Junior Kindergarten and into a new world of learning.
Like any mom, I have no idea where the time went. People tell you when you become a parent to savour every moment because the time flashes past in a heartbeat. During the first years, it's a sleep deprived, tantrum infused blur. My little girl has an aversion to sleep, and it's been a tough battle dragging her out of bed earlier and earlier to prepare her for this morning. It's been challenging...on both of us non-morning people.
I made sure that my daughter was socially ready for school. She was very timid when she was small, so I put her in summer camp and a pre-school program so that she would have more social skills than her mother did when I started school. I also wanted her to become familiar with the concept that she is not the only sun in the universe. We're still working on that one. The teacher's comment at the end of the day today was "holy moley, she likes to get her own way." My response was "um yeah, we're working on that."
I had a couple of worries as she headed off to school-body functions and food. She's been toilet trained 3 times-once at 2 1/2 until she broke her leg in 2 places and couldn't GET to the bathroom by herself for 2 months and by the time she could again she'd forgotten how. The second time was at age 3, until she pitched a sustained hissy fit when summer camp ended and regressed to peeing her pants again. We're working on this latest one, and she left a puddle in the living room yesterday... a couple of times. She came home in the same clothes I sent her in this morning. I'll take it. Yesterday, we went through 6 changes of clothes. I suspect it will be some time before I stop crossing my fingers as I send her off in the morning.
The eating was a big concern. My daughter is a grazer, and given her druthers, it takes her most of the day to eat her lunch...if she eats at all...which she sometimes doesn't do, which leads to meltdowns. It was such a big concern that I sent her off to her first day of school with shrimp in her lunch. Yes, shrimp. She will devour them, and thanks to the gods who invented gel pack cups, she had shrimp that kept cold until lunch. I also tucked in a pudding, some ham, a cheese string, some crackers, cookies, chocolate milk and an apple. The crackers and cookies came back home, because she forgot that I'd put her snacks in her backpack and her lunch in her lunch bag. She ate all the heathy stuff, so it's all good. She can cope and listen much better when she eats.
I know she has some challenges ahead. Strong willed, independent people and structured authority are not symbiotic. I know she will do well in the structured environment because she likes to know what she is doing and when. I also know that she has some tough lessons to learn about having her own way. We've tried to teach her and now we will support and partner with her teacher.
I didn't cry as I sent her off, although my husband was blinking his eyes suspiciously. I confess I drove by the school on my way home from an appointment just to see how she was doing. It was lunch time, and the children were outside. I could see my little girl, playing on the periphery but keeping an eye on everything. That's what she does in new situations. I also saw some children engaging with her which encouraged me. There's some residual timidness there, but there's nothing wrong with being timid and shy. It will change soon enough when she gets comfortable.
She goes three full days next week, and that will be the test by the end of the week.
I wish my little girl the same joy in learning that I've always had. I've tried to prep her by telling her how much fun school can be, and how exciting learning new things is. I've tried my best to lay the framework for a lifetime of learning, and I will continue to partner with her teachers. I won't always have the answers, but I will do my best to find them. I still love to learn, and there's a whole bunch of things I don't know, although I've already bought a Math Dictionary. You can never be too prepared.
Time for chocolate chip cookies and milk. It's the perfect way to end a school day, don't you think?
Like any mom, I have no idea where the time went. People tell you when you become a parent to savour every moment because the time flashes past in a heartbeat. During the first years, it's a sleep deprived, tantrum infused blur. My little girl has an aversion to sleep, and it's been a tough battle dragging her out of bed earlier and earlier to prepare her for this morning. It's been challenging...on both of us non-morning people.
I made sure that my daughter was socially ready for school. She was very timid when she was small, so I put her in summer camp and a pre-school program so that she would have more social skills than her mother did when I started school. I also wanted her to become familiar with the concept that she is not the only sun in the universe. We're still working on that one. The teacher's comment at the end of the day today was "holy moley, she likes to get her own way." My response was "um yeah, we're working on that."
I had a couple of worries as she headed off to school-body functions and food. She's been toilet trained 3 times-once at 2 1/2 until she broke her leg in 2 places and couldn't GET to the bathroom by herself for 2 months and by the time she could again she'd forgotten how. The second time was at age 3, until she pitched a sustained hissy fit when summer camp ended and regressed to peeing her pants again. We're working on this latest one, and she left a puddle in the living room yesterday... a couple of times. She came home in the same clothes I sent her in this morning. I'll take it. Yesterday, we went through 6 changes of clothes. I suspect it will be some time before I stop crossing my fingers as I send her off in the morning.
The eating was a big concern. My daughter is a grazer, and given her druthers, it takes her most of the day to eat her lunch...if she eats at all...which she sometimes doesn't do, which leads to meltdowns. It was such a big concern that I sent her off to her first day of school with shrimp in her lunch. Yes, shrimp. She will devour them, and thanks to the gods who invented gel pack cups, she had shrimp that kept cold until lunch. I also tucked in a pudding, some ham, a cheese string, some crackers, cookies, chocolate milk and an apple. The crackers and cookies came back home, because she forgot that I'd put her snacks in her backpack and her lunch in her lunch bag. She ate all the heathy stuff, so it's all good. She can cope and listen much better when she eats.
I know she has some challenges ahead. Strong willed, independent people and structured authority are not symbiotic. I know she will do well in the structured environment because she likes to know what she is doing and when. I also know that she has some tough lessons to learn about having her own way. We've tried to teach her and now we will support and partner with her teacher.
I didn't cry as I sent her off, although my husband was blinking his eyes suspiciously. I confess I drove by the school on my way home from an appointment just to see how she was doing. It was lunch time, and the children were outside. I could see my little girl, playing on the periphery but keeping an eye on everything. That's what she does in new situations. I also saw some children engaging with her which encouraged me. There's some residual timidness there, but there's nothing wrong with being timid and shy. It will change soon enough when she gets comfortable.
She goes three full days next week, and that will be the test by the end of the week.
I wish my little girl the same joy in learning that I've always had. I've tried to prep her by telling her how much fun school can be, and how exciting learning new things is. I've tried my best to lay the framework for a lifetime of learning, and I will continue to partner with her teachers. I won't always have the answers, but I will do my best to find them. I still love to learn, and there's a whole bunch of things I don't know, although I've already bought a Math Dictionary. You can never be too prepared.
Time for chocolate chip cookies and milk. It's the perfect way to end a school day, don't you think?
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Not Another Day-Update
Here is this week's Fat to Fit update.
I don't have much to report this week. My knee has continued to give me grief and has had a significant impact on my ability to do exercises. Even Jackknifes (jackknives?) hurt. I just bought a knee brace and I may have to break down and phone my doctor, which should be good for at least 2 days' worth of dialing to get an appointment to get it looked at. I should probably have physio, but the kid starts school this week, so it can wait.
I don't have much to report this week. My knee has continued to give me grief and has had a significant impact on my ability to do exercises. Even Jackknifes (jackknives?) hurt. I just bought a knee brace and I may have to break down and phone my doctor, which should be good for at least 2 days' worth of dialing to get an appointment to get it looked at. I should probably have physio, but the kid starts school this week, so it can wait.
- No change in the weight, unless you count the 2 lb up and down, up and down, up and down...
- Clothes still aren't fitting any differently, but then I'm just reluctantly starting to dig out long pants again, so maybe I'll notice a difference in THEM.
- 3 sleeps until I start walking the kid to school on the days she goes. (note to the PTB-staggered start for Junior Kindergarten is DUMB.) I'll be making the trek 4 times-she'll do it twice.
- I got nothing else. I'm not inspired, I'm not motivated, I'm not encouraged. I'm just in pain and forcing myself to keep going.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Not Another Day-Update
Here's the Fat to Fit update.
Sometimes, life smacks you upside the head and reminds you of what is important. This was one of those weeks. I sang at 2 funerals, and heard catastrophic news about someone younger than me who had a heart attack a week ago but no history of heart problems, is currently in Intensive Care on a ventilator and is a single mom to a fabulous young man who has to start school with his mom in the hospital. Instead of starting school with anticipation and excitement, he's living with his grandparents and starting school with worry.
Another friend of mine is also dealing with terminal illness in her family.
In the face of that, my fat ass doesn't matter.
My daughter now asks me daily if I've done my workout. She asks if daddy has done his. Occasionally, she will do the yoga poses with me and loves to "race" with me when I'm able to do the run. We're leading by example and that's a good thing. We have our challenging, funny, stubborn little girl and we're getting healthier for her. At the end of the day, and in light of the serious health challenges others of my acquaintance are dealing with, it's enough. It may not be perfect, but it's a start.
Instead of whining about lack of progress this week, I am counting my blessings and sending love and prayers to anyone who is dealing with serious illness. Sometimes life smacks you upside the head and refocuses your priorities. This was one of those weeks.
Sometimes, life smacks you upside the head and reminds you of what is important. This was one of those weeks. I sang at 2 funerals, and heard catastrophic news about someone younger than me who had a heart attack a week ago but no history of heart problems, is currently in Intensive Care on a ventilator and is a single mom to a fabulous young man who has to start school with his mom in the hospital. Instead of starting school with anticipation and excitement, he's living with his grandparents and starting school with worry.
Another friend of mine is also dealing with terminal illness in her family.
In the face of that, my fat ass doesn't matter.
- I missed a couple of days of workout this week because my hip was cranky and the knee didn't appreciate extra reps of the squats. Because of the other commitments in my life this week, some of the workouts were abbreviated, but I did the best I could manage.
- We de-constructed my daughter's bunk bed, so I was pulling and hauling on mattresses and other things.
- The kid and I practiced walking to school one day this week, and then went to the park and walked home. We also walked all over the market and a couple of shopping malls.
- I've logged 37 hours on Wii Fit since I started and I can now do decent Jack knife exercises. I can almost touch my toes without bending my knees, which for my stiff muscles is a major accomplishment.
My daughter now asks me daily if I've done my workout. She asks if daddy has done his. Occasionally, she will do the yoga poses with me and loves to "race" with me when I'm able to do the run. We're leading by example and that's a good thing. We have our challenging, funny, stubborn little girl and we're getting healthier for her. At the end of the day, and in light of the serious health challenges others of my acquaintance are dealing with, it's enough. It may not be perfect, but it's a start.
Instead of whining about lack of progress this week, I am counting my blessings and sending love and prayers to anyone who is dealing with serious illness. Sometimes life smacks you upside the head and refocuses your priorities. This was one of those weeks.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Not Another Day-Update
Here's the weekly Fat to Fit update.
- Ate my Belgian waffle with strawberries at the CNE. Walking for 8 hours back and forth along the complex more than compensated for it.
- Been dealing with cranky pelvic bones all week. So bad on Tuesday that I had to call husband from driveway to bring out the crutches to get me in the house after the PWAC Guelph BBQ.
- Skipped Wednesday workout entirely because I was still crippled and unable to weight bear on right side. Took it easy the rest of the week because it's still dodgy.
- Had a really stressful, emotionally draining week...gave in to poutine...twice. Enjoyed every artery clogging mouthful.
- Opted to watch Senator Ted Kennedy's funeral Saturday morning instead of working out. I made the right choice. What a majestic send-off to such a powerful advocate for the less fortunate, the marginalized and the forgotten.
- Poutine and waffle notwithstanding, still no change in fit of clothes, weight on scale or BMI. Standing straighter. That's it.
- Added jackknifes to my routine. After the Pilates I've been doing, they were easy.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Not Another Day-Update
Here is the latest Fat to Fit update. Not Another Day.
I took some flack last week about the use of the word "Fat." Many people took me to task for applying the word to my situation. I chose the word for several reasons:
In the quest to tone and tighten, (read, pushing past my common sense limitations of previous injuries) I reinjured a couple of things from my ballroom dancing days. I have managed to annoy my right knee to the point where running and the advanced step are out of the question some days, even if I only step up 3 inches. Running barefoot on hardwood has not been good for my knee, either (although it's been good physio for the foot I broke in the spring). The three middle toes on both feet go numb within minutes of being on the Wii Balance Board. Because I'm working out barefoot, I'm stressing the arches, which stresses some nerve around the toes which gets mad and goes numb. It's hard to hold a decent tree pose when your toes are freaking numb.
I've only managed to lose a grand total of 3.5 lbs since July 13. My husband is following Weight Watchers and doing either Wii Fit or Wii Active every morning. He has lost 15 lbs and who knows how many inches, but enough that it's noticeable. His pants are actually belted and sitting where they are supposed to on his waist, instead of tucked under the "tummy overhang."
While I am not following Weight Watchers, I have been very careful about what I am consuming so that I can trim calories and support him. He has always been able to wash the weight off in the shower when he puts his mind to it. I know that. I've lived it. I've seen it. Intellectually I understand that but it burns my butt when I'm working so hard and consistently. (Although in fairness to him, so is he). I had a day last week when I was ready to resign as a parent and ended up substituting suicidal/homicidal thoughts with a DQ Blizzard. (It was Miracle Treat Day anyway-so it was for charity) The next morning, instead of being the same or slightly up on the scale I was down 1.5 lbs (but had gained back 1 lb by the end of the workout...) The morning after I ate ice cream TWICE in a day, and ate Swiss Chalet complete with French Fries (but still no poutine), I reached my goal. I don't understand my freaking body chemistry, although I do know that I can go up as much as 3 lbs overnight. I've gone up 2 lbs in an hourlong workout that did not include stuffing my face.
I've added Pilates into the mix. I'm a singer, so I've already got pretty strong abs. Shocked the crap out of a muscle-head personal trainer one time because I don't look like someone who can do 70 situps in a minute. I can, I have and I did. It was my salvation on the Canada Fitness Award every year when I was a kid. (and the flexed arm hang doomed me to gold every single freaking year but I digress). If Pilates can't tighten the gut, nothing is going to.
I've had to really struggle to continue this week. I'm putting the effort in and I'm not seeing results. Yes, I know, it's Wii Fit, and is limited by the exercises that the Balance Board can track. Yes, I know, I should be at the gym, walking on the road, swimming at the pool, blah blah blah. I can't manage those things right now. Wii Fit I can manage. It may not be Body Bootcamp...but it's more than I've done in 4.5 years.
I know that I have some serious hormonal issues going on that are going to have an impact on my metabolism and subsequent weight loss. One of the meds I'm on right now has a side effect of weight gain, so at least that didn't happen.
I'm counting on stubborn and determined to keep me at this. I need to see some results though. Nothing is changing fit-wise, the scale is moving in glacial intervals downward, and the time is ticking on towards January and the slice and dice. I don't always make the best food choices, but I make much better food choices than I was making 3 months ago. I haven't touched Poutine, for example, although I just about mugged someone for their New York Fries Poutine at the mall the other night when the greasy-cheese scent wafted towards me as the fries were carried by me. Instead, I had really bad Pad Thai and ate half of it. We're going to the Canadian National Exhibition tomorrow, and I WILL be having a Belgian Waffle with ice cream and strawberries. It's one of my must-dos at the Ex and I'm not going to miss it. I suspect I will be walking enough to balance it out...and don't care if I don't. It's a once a year indulgence.
I'm wondering why I'm bothering to continue. Yes, I am setting an example for my daughter by taking care of myself physically. Yes, I know it takes time for results to show. Yes, I know I need to stick with it. Yes I know that I'm seeing incremental improvement in my ability to hold certain poses or do more reps...But doubt and "why bother, it's not working anyway" are creeping into my psyche and it's getting hard to hold them at bay. Couple that with injury, and you have one discouraged little blogger. Sigh.
I took some flack last week about the use of the word "Fat." Many people took me to task for applying the word to my situation. I chose the word for several reasons:
- It makes a nice alliteration.
- It's what I see when I look in the mirror, regardless of what the scale says. (Yes, I do. No, maybe I shouldn't but it's what I see.)
- It's what the Wii Fit Balance Board tells me every morning. Actually, it says "that's Obese" which is just a fancy way of saying fat.
- According to a couple of on-line dictionaries I checked, alternative meanings include "plump", "obese". The word stays.
In the quest to tone and tighten, (read, pushing past my common sense limitations of previous injuries) I reinjured a couple of things from my ballroom dancing days. I have managed to annoy my right knee to the point where running and the advanced step are out of the question some days, even if I only step up 3 inches. Running barefoot on hardwood has not been good for my knee, either (although it's been good physio for the foot I broke in the spring). The three middle toes on both feet go numb within minutes of being on the Wii Balance Board. Because I'm working out barefoot, I'm stressing the arches, which stresses some nerve around the toes which gets mad and goes numb. It's hard to hold a decent tree pose when your toes are freaking numb.
I've only managed to lose a grand total of 3.5 lbs since July 13. My husband is following Weight Watchers and doing either Wii Fit or Wii Active every morning. He has lost 15 lbs and who knows how many inches, but enough that it's noticeable. His pants are actually belted and sitting where they are supposed to on his waist, instead of tucked under the "tummy overhang."
While I am not following Weight Watchers, I have been very careful about what I am consuming so that I can trim calories and support him. He has always been able to wash the weight off in the shower when he puts his mind to it. I know that. I've lived it. I've seen it. Intellectually I understand that but it burns my butt when I'm working so hard and consistently. (Although in fairness to him, so is he). I had a day last week when I was ready to resign as a parent and ended up substituting suicidal/homicidal thoughts with a DQ Blizzard. (It was Miracle Treat Day anyway-so it was for charity) The next morning, instead of being the same or slightly up on the scale I was down 1.5 lbs (but had gained back 1 lb by the end of the workout...) The morning after I ate ice cream TWICE in a day, and ate Swiss Chalet complete with French Fries (but still no poutine), I reached my goal. I don't understand my freaking body chemistry, although I do know that I can go up as much as 3 lbs overnight. I've gone up 2 lbs in an hourlong workout that did not include stuffing my face.
I've added Pilates into the mix. I'm a singer, so I've already got pretty strong abs. Shocked the crap out of a muscle-head personal trainer one time because I don't look like someone who can do 70 situps in a minute. I can, I have and I did. It was my salvation on the Canada Fitness Award every year when I was a kid. (and the flexed arm hang doomed me to gold every single freaking year but I digress). If Pilates can't tighten the gut, nothing is going to.
I've had to really struggle to continue this week. I'm putting the effort in and I'm not seeing results. Yes, I know, it's Wii Fit, and is limited by the exercises that the Balance Board can track. Yes, I know, I should be at the gym, walking on the road, swimming at the pool, blah blah blah. I can't manage those things right now. Wii Fit I can manage. It may not be Body Bootcamp...but it's more than I've done in 4.5 years.
I know that I have some serious hormonal issues going on that are going to have an impact on my metabolism and subsequent weight loss. One of the meds I'm on right now has a side effect of weight gain, so at least that didn't happen.
I'm counting on stubborn and determined to keep me at this. I need to see some results though. Nothing is changing fit-wise, the scale is moving in glacial intervals downward, and the time is ticking on towards January and the slice and dice. I don't always make the best food choices, but I make much better food choices than I was making 3 months ago. I haven't touched Poutine, for example, although I just about mugged someone for their New York Fries Poutine at the mall the other night when the greasy-cheese scent wafted towards me as the fries were carried by me. Instead, I had really bad Pad Thai and ate half of it. We're going to the Canadian National Exhibition tomorrow, and I WILL be having a Belgian Waffle with ice cream and strawberries. It's one of my must-dos at the Ex and I'm not going to miss it. I suspect I will be walking enough to balance it out...and don't care if I don't. It's a once a year indulgence.
I'm wondering why I'm bothering to continue. Yes, I am setting an example for my daughter by taking care of myself physically. Yes, I know it takes time for results to show. Yes, I know I need to stick with it. Yes I know that I'm seeing incremental improvement in my ability to hold certain poses or do more reps...But doubt and "why bother, it's not working anyway" are creeping into my psyche and it's getting hard to hold them at bay. Couple that with injury, and you have one discouraged little blogger. Sigh.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Real revisited.
I've had something stuck in my craw for the last few days, and it's making me crazy. I need to write about it. Why does the world CARE so much about who the biological father of Michael Jackson's kids are? Why does it matter?
If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will remember that I had a similar rant last year. (October last year, entitled Real) I am an adopted child and an adoptive parent, and the business of who the "real" parents are makes me homicidal. I've dealt with it all my life and dread it when it's my daughter's turn for ignorant comments about "real" parents. What does genetics have to do with parenting? So maybe I don't look like my parents-although people who don't know I'm adopted find a resemblance-and people are amazed at the resemblance between my adopted daughter and I. But what astounds me is that people feel the need to tell me that she looks like me. I don't give a tinker's damn if my kid looks like me or not. I care that she is a part of my life, because for a very long time I didn't think it would be possible for me to be a parent. Any adoptive parent will tell you the same thing. We don't care what our kids look like. We care only that we get to look at our kids, and marvel that they are, in fact, OUR kids.
My daughter can break my heart in a million pieces with a sleepy "I love you, mommy." My daughter can break my heart in a million pieces by refusing to sit beside me on the school bus for a field trip. My daughter can swell my heart a million times its size with a neat craft, a well-executed star fish float or riding her "big girl" bike. My daughter can bring tears to my eyes by graduating from pre-school, by going off to summer camp without me there for a couple of hours, and in a few weeks, by starting school. If that isn't the response of a "real" mom, I don't know is.
Was Michael Jackson a good parent? Don't know. I wonder about the "hanging the baby over the railing" incident, but he certainly did a good job of protecting them from the media circus that surrounded his every move. I was sort of caught off guard by the third child-Blanket-I'd forgotten or never heard of his arrival. And for what it's worth, "Blanket" sounds like a nickname that any parent any where sticks their kid with as a sign of affection when they're little. My daughter has several of those "cringe inducing when they're teenagers" nicknames. It certainly sounded like a name given in love by a parent.
At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I think. His daughter, Paris, certainly thought he was a good dad, and if the grief on the faces of the other kids is any indicator, so did her brothers.
Genetics contributes certain character traits. It does NOT, however, make a parent. You are a parent when you sit up half the night with a sick kid. You are a parent when you cry at the first day of school, the first step, the first heart break and the first grandchild. You are a parent when you play the heavy and restrict candy after the first cavity, cancel a promised field trip because of misbehaviour, and sit up half the night waiting for them to come home. And you are a parent if you give your kid a nickname like Blanket.
So let me be clear. A real parent may or may not share DNA. A real parent may have grown the baby in the heart rather than the tummy. And a real parent loves their child with the fiercest, most over powering love possible. Michael Jackson was a real parent. He may have been a flawed one, but he was a loving parent nonetheless. We all make mistakes. Most of us don't do it surrounded by paparazzi. It doesn't matter whose DNA those Jackson kids have. They just lost their dad, and they need to be left alone now.
If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will remember that I had a similar rant last year. (October last year, entitled Real) I am an adopted child and an adoptive parent, and the business of who the "real" parents are makes me homicidal. I've dealt with it all my life and dread it when it's my daughter's turn for ignorant comments about "real" parents. What does genetics have to do with parenting? So maybe I don't look like my parents-although people who don't know I'm adopted find a resemblance-and people are amazed at the resemblance between my adopted daughter and I. But what astounds me is that people feel the need to tell me that she looks like me. I don't give a tinker's damn if my kid looks like me or not. I care that she is a part of my life, because for a very long time I didn't think it would be possible for me to be a parent. Any adoptive parent will tell you the same thing. We don't care what our kids look like. We care only that we get to look at our kids, and marvel that they are, in fact, OUR kids.
My daughter can break my heart in a million pieces with a sleepy "I love you, mommy." My daughter can break my heart in a million pieces by refusing to sit beside me on the school bus for a field trip. My daughter can swell my heart a million times its size with a neat craft, a well-executed star fish float or riding her "big girl" bike. My daughter can bring tears to my eyes by graduating from pre-school, by going off to summer camp without me there for a couple of hours, and in a few weeks, by starting school. If that isn't the response of a "real" mom, I don't know is.
Was Michael Jackson a good parent? Don't know. I wonder about the "hanging the baby over the railing" incident, but he certainly did a good job of protecting them from the media circus that surrounded his every move. I was sort of caught off guard by the third child-Blanket-I'd forgotten or never heard of his arrival. And for what it's worth, "Blanket" sounds like a nickname that any parent any where sticks their kid with as a sign of affection when they're little. My daughter has several of those "cringe inducing when they're teenagers" nicknames. It certainly sounded like a name given in love by a parent.
At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I think. His daughter, Paris, certainly thought he was a good dad, and if the grief on the faces of the other kids is any indicator, so did her brothers.
Genetics contributes certain character traits. It does NOT, however, make a parent. You are a parent when you sit up half the night with a sick kid. You are a parent when you cry at the first day of school, the first step, the first heart break and the first grandchild. You are a parent when you play the heavy and restrict candy after the first cavity, cancel a promised field trip because of misbehaviour, and sit up half the night waiting for them to come home. And you are a parent if you give your kid a nickname like Blanket.
So let me be clear. A real parent may or may not share DNA. A real parent may have grown the baby in the heart rather than the tummy. And a real parent loves their child with the fiercest, most over powering love possible. Michael Jackson was a real parent. He may have been a flawed one, but he was a loving parent nonetheless. We all make mistakes. Most of us don't do it surrounded by paparazzi. It doesn't matter whose DNA those Jackson kids have. They just lost their dad, and they need to be left alone now.
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