Jack Sprat and the Squishy Bottoms
I've started walking three miles a day with the girls in the jogging stroller. Surprisingly, they both love it and I can get quite a good workout if I put my mind to it. We drive to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena and walk the three mile loop around the stadium and attached golf course. There are a few snags, however. My three year old's commentary on the hundreds of other exercisers there.
Pixie has virtually no fat on her three year old body. A few weeks ago she was endlessly amused to find that her bottom jiggled when she walked. Ever since her discovery, she loves to analyze other people's bottoms to see if they are "squishy" as well. When you are in a three mile loop full of other locals wearing spandex pants and too-tight exercise shorts, there are oh, so many bottoms to judge.
I try and keep body talk healthy and open in my family. So when Pixie and I are behind a pack of swaying tushes and she says, "ooooh, there's a squishy bottom" I just agree. I've never really fixated on other's behinds before but now, every morning for 45 minutes, all I hear is bottom talk. There are the large men whose bottoms are not squishy. Pixie wonders what their secret is. And of course the precious women whose squishy bottoms are their defining characteristic. Pixie has aptly described my bottom as squishy as well and despite my reassurances to her that it is only a passing phase, she's convinced that no amount of walking will change my soft anatomy.
While I play along with her squishy bottom talk, I (believe it or not) have my limits. This morning we overtook a larger woman walking and Pixie shouted out in disbelief, "Mom, her boobs are HUGE!!" I quickly shushed her and tried to explain why that was rude to say. I then endured a 10 minute conversation with her about why different people have different sized chests, explain the current girth of my own chest, and tell her all about what would happen to her poor physique in 10 years time.
I think for our walk tomorrow I'll bring headphones so me and my squishy bottom can exercise in peace.
Pixie has virtually no fat on her three year old body. A few weeks ago she was endlessly amused to find that her bottom jiggled when she walked. Ever since her discovery, she loves to analyze other people's bottoms to see if they are "squishy" as well. When you are in a three mile loop full of other locals wearing spandex pants and too-tight exercise shorts, there are oh, so many bottoms to judge.
I try and keep body talk healthy and open in my family. So when Pixie and I are behind a pack of swaying tushes and she says, "ooooh, there's a squishy bottom" I just agree. I've never really fixated on other's behinds before but now, every morning for 45 minutes, all I hear is bottom talk. There are the large men whose bottoms are not squishy. Pixie wonders what their secret is. And of course the precious women whose squishy bottoms are their defining characteristic. Pixie has aptly described my bottom as squishy as well and despite my reassurances to her that it is only a passing phase, she's convinced that no amount of walking will change my soft anatomy.
While I play along with her squishy bottom talk, I (believe it or not) have my limits. This morning we overtook a larger woman walking and Pixie shouted out in disbelief, "Mom, her boobs are HUGE!!" I quickly shushed her and tried to explain why that was rude to say. I then endured a 10 minute conversation with her about why different people have different sized chests, explain the current girth of my own chest, and tell her all about what would happen to her poor physique in 10 years time.
I think for our walk tomorrow I'll bring headphones so me and my squishy bottom can exercise in peace.
Comments
Everyone has "body" posts lately. S'mee too. I take on age, wrinkles, and shifting weight. The fact of the matter is:
We're all o.k. just the way we are, squishy bottoms and all! But that Pixie of yours? She gets cuter every time we see her.
And at least Pixie uses the word 'squishy' instead of 'bumpy'...
Elijah will occasionally tell me he likes my "woobies." He made that one up all by himself.
Pixie, talk to me in 30 years.
Don't walk in front of Pixie...