Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta recently released a campaign to target Georgia’s growing childhood obesity epidemic. 40% of the children in Georgia are considered obese – the second highest number in the nation. The ads were intentionally created to stir your emotions.
From CNN: The posters and TV spots of obese children with doleful eyes were as stark as their accompanying messages: “Being fat takes the fun out of being a kid,” and “It’s hard to be a little girl if you’re not,” to name a few.
But did they go too far? Mommy bloggerville lit up on this issue. Most came out rallying against the ads. One mom had this to say, “When I first saw the Strong4Life billboards, my first reaction was wanting to cry and sleep in my room and eat a box of Twinkies. It touched me that much.” She went on to say that she was a morbidly obese adult who lost 100 pounds after having her kids. That comment gave me pause. While I think it is wonderful she was able to beat her obesity problem, the fact is, most people never do. Healthy habits HAVE TO start at a young age. Healthy habits HAVE TO be supported by parents. Healthy Habits HAVE TO be adopted as a lifestyle not a fleeting diet. But do these ads get parents moving in the right direction or just create more ‘fat shame’ for overweight kids?
Cream? Milk? How about something a little more interesting.
Here are a few healthier alternatives to your standard creamer…
My personal favorite is SO DELICIOUS COCONUT MILK. It has a very creamy taste without the dairy. Great option for kiddos with dairy and nut allergies. Yay!
Added Bonus: Organic and made with non-GMO coconuts.
Admittedly, I spend a significant amount of time looking at myself in the mirror. Always have, always will. What can I say? I’m vain. Lately, I have been obsessed with lip plumpers and watching them work their magic in real time. I’ll pout, smile and bite my new swollen lips while gazing affectionately at my reflection. While I am no Adriana Lima and never will be, lip plumpers do make you feel sexier. My first lip plumper was Buxom Lips by Bare Escentuals. It gives your lips a tingling sensation that I suppose signals that it is working. I didn’t like the tackiness or shine of the gloss which for me doesn’t equate to everyday wear. I wanted big, full lips all day without the sticky gloss effect. I moved on to Vivite Defining Lip Plumper. I love this plumper so much that I keep one in my make-up drawer and my purse. Unlike Buxom Lips, you do not get a tingling sensation but you do see plumper lips instantly.
Over the weekend, though, I was watching a news segment on natural beauty fixes. It listed cinnamon leaf oil as a way to plump your lips. The only caveat – use sparingly as it is very potent. I thought to myself ‘potent schmotent’ and drove over to the health food store where the news lady said I could find it. As my purchase was being rung up, I excitedly told the clerk I was going to use it as a lip plumper. She warned me to ‘use sparingly’ and sort of bulged her eyes out at me. Oh, whatever. I rushed home and brushed my lips with a toothbrush to help make them more susceptible to the cinnamon leaf oil. I then dabbed the oil on a q-tip and eagerly lathered all over my lips. I immediately got the ‘oh shit, I did something really bad’ feeling when my lips started burning and wouldn’t stop. The lady at the health food store had also said to use it in conjunction with lip balm so I ran to my purse and generously applied my Chapstick. The burning sensation quickly calmed down as did my heart rate. When I finally had the courage to look in the mirror ( I thought my lips would be savagely burned and hanging off my face), I was delighted to see that my lips were huge and swollen in a Adriana Lima way. Unfortunately the swollen look doesn’t last that long. I think I will be sticking to my soft Vivite plumper for everyday use and only save the cinnamon oil trick for when I want to look like a porn star. If you decide to go this route, remember – USE SPARINGLY.
It wasn’t until week six of my doctor-ordered no-sugar, no-carb diet that I dreamt I was licking buttercream frosting off Ryan Gosling’s scruffy-sexy-Notebook-beard. What do you mean you’ve never had that delicious dream before?
Many days I wander my vast collection of Baking Porn, calculating how much a Cake Pop would put me back after days and days of being on. Though I’ve caved a few times to my inner pizza eater, overall I’ve exercised my will of steel. Because my body is actually starting to feel super-sluggish post carb indulgence, cheating isn’t even all that fun anymore. I stare a delish cookie in its eye, tell it how crappy it’s going to make me feel like later and walk away. Okay, okay, sometimes I take a teeny nibble first.
All of this strictness led me to the realization that carbs must’ve given me way too much pleasure because I’m now experiencing South Beach Diet Depression. Carbs are pure joy for an Italian girl. Conversely, I don’t think I can bear one more boneless, skinless grilled chicken breast atop spinach greens. Between that and nuts, I consume the same amount of calories that birds and squirrels do in my yard.
While this seems extreme, it was actually necessary. My post-partum weight’s been stubborn as F#@K and not letting go after my second child who turns TWO in a few weeks. That’s right, I said two. The private battle I’ve fought has been soul-crushing. The words brutal and humiliating also come to mind.
And I’ve tried everything else.
And Sugar Abstinence works. All the hot moms are doing it.
The stubborn weight and my very low energy among other symptoms led me on my own Mystery Diagnosis episode where I’ve acted as doctor /researcher/frustrated patient. I explored bio-identical hormones, hypothyroidism, hypnotherapy, a trainer, nutritionist, blood work like crazy, endocrinology, pre-diabetic hypoglycemia, autoimmune disorders, and these are only the ones that pop into my head. I’m saving acupuncture, veganism, crystals, Reiki, and appearing on Dr. Oz for when I’m really desperate.
But wait.
I should really take my sad story from the top- my neck.
Like Nora Ephron, I feel bad about my neck too.
On my living room wall is a black and white montage of wedding shots where my hubs and I are shoving cake in each other’s happy mouths. Every time I pass it, I think- “Damn, my neck was sexy” and then- “Sure do miss her”.
In my pre-mom life I had a neck that would have made Queen Nefertiti jealous. It was skinny and graceful, long and elegant, the Rolls Royce of all necks. People thought I was a dancer. Or from another country. Or very chic. I used my neck to the fullest. Hair bobbed. Long dangling chandelier earrings. Sashaying around the room at a party, you wouldn’t have been able to take your eyes off me. Well, her.
Then six years ago, she went soft, smushy. And while pregnancies changed my body, I never could have predicted that my formerly beautiful neck would be the part I mourned most.
I thought that this was what happened as you approached thirty, like a car accident that occurs right in front of you and leaves you no reaction time to swerve.
Turns out I was wrong. When I finally made my way to an endocrinologist to ultrasound my neck, he said I have a goiter, the thing only old ladies and Oprah grow. I cried. I told the doctor about my formerly swan-like neck. He said that if my husband is a regular guy then he probably doesn’t care about my neck. But the endocrinologist didn’t understand that this wasn’t about my husband, it’s about me.
As I left his office, I promised him I would renounce sugar. Even wine. I vowed to South Beach it right on through the entire holiday season. Sigh.
This was after screwing around with my hormones bio-identically for months, and before I found out about my adrenal fatigue and the hyper cortisol production that is poisoning me. This is near the time of three misdiagnoses and faulty treatment plans. Bigger sigh.
Partial diagnosis: Auto-immune issues ain’t sexy and producing too much cortisol makes your neck (along with other parts) fat.
I wish I could jump off this Medical Roller Cluster. I’ve hated all these doctor’s appointments for the last year and a half. I’ve hated focusing so much on my annoying body while my sitter watches my kids. I’ve hated paying the sticker price to just feel like myself again. But the ride is almost over so I’m getting excited to return back to the day to day of a healthy mom. The routine and humdrum looks much sexier to me now; boring, please come back to me soon!
