Dear Fat Fluffy Foster Mom,
Happy New Year’s Eve! Hey, before you make those resolutions, I just wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful. Yep! It’s time to celebrate this year’s hard earned fluff. Yes, I am talking to you, the one with the larger lap to offer more room for the extra bottoms to rest. Yes, that’s right you, the one with the thick arms that support not one but perhaps 3 diaper bags. Yes, you, with the hips wide enough to support and rock children no matter their age or size. You are beautiful.
I have told people who I gained 10lbs with every child and receive strange looks and sometimes an uncomfortable half giggle. I have heard others joke about how great adoption is because “you get to escape all the symptoms of pregnancy”, mostly referring to weight gain. HA! These people have no idea what foster care can do to a body. I could cry. I could complain. I could deny. Nope, tonight I celebrate. I remind you to do the same.
So, here’s to every cookie eaten in haste before the food hoarders swoop in and it vanishes into the “wasn’t me” land. Here’s to every secret chocolate therapy session spent in the garage after a 2 hour rage marathon brought on by the suggestion that homework should be complete. Here’s to every fast food meal wolfed down between the therapy appointment and the swim practice. Here’s to every mug of cocoa with a splash of Bailey’s that numbs the pain of hearing that the joy of your life is now returning to her biological family and that you should concentrate on praying for her safety.
I want to commend you for your ability to stuff down emotions with food. I firmly believe in the Twinkie’s ability to sponge up anger that bubbles with each goal that you are forced to support when common sense tells you otherwise. I believe in the devil’s food wall of resistance that separates you from those that would easily smack that 20 something skinny caseworker upside the head with her clipboard. I believe in the marshmallow hug of fluff that surrounds your world thus protecting you from those well-meaning friends and their “useful” parenting advice. Finally, I sing praise to the red cup of love (or white if you prefer) that coats your throat and keeps all your tongue in check.
Remember this as you put the pen to the paper and begin to write your goals. I too will start a diet in the morning. Tonight though, I celebrate the reasons that force me to start that diet and urge you to do the same. Rock on 2014!
Sincerely,
Julie Sartor
Fat Fabulous Foster Mom,
