The best diet ever

Perfect the way she is

We’re having one of those lazy Saturday evening dinners. My friend, who appears to be cooking ten things at once, asks the kids to come into the kitchen and load up their plates. “Do you want a kebab stick?” She asks my daughter, who turns her nose up slightly and announces: “No, thank you, I’m on a diet.”

Excuse me?

“You are seven,” I blurt out. “You are NOT on a diet, you’re not even supposed to know what that means. Who said you needed a diet? Why would you need a diet? What are you even talking about?”

There’s nobody who can overreact to a little comment the way I can. Nobody. I invented the concept. Of course, she doesn’t mean it; she just doesn’t feel like eating meat on a stick right exactly then. And as for how she knows about diets, well, I’m afraid that is entirely my fault. Although to be honest, my husband carries a little blame as well.

We are both complaining continuously about our waistlines, which match our attitudes for size. In fact, we talk about it so much, we run out of time to actually do something about it. Which doesn’t mean we’ll give up any time soon, because that would be, well, rational. We don’t do rational very well.

I did allow my daughter on the treadmill over the summer. Especially on the hottest days, when even the pool water heats up to fast, she gets cabin fever. I get tired of the running from the basement to the second floor and back again, so I let her run. That, and a friend who is a pediatrician nixed my idea for a trampoline by telling me how many kids she sees in her practice. According to her, they tend to fall off.  The treadmill is kind of like a hamster wheel, but for hyperactive kids. Apparently, endorphins happen in little girls, too. I don’t let her use it because she is fat. She’s not fat; she swells up and has a growth spurt, swells up, and has another growth spurt. Kind of like an accordion, and entirely age appropriate.

Does she suspect I consider her fat because of the treadmill? Does she misinterpret when I tell her she needs to move off the couch and go run around a little? I am afraid to ask. Maybe she is already at an age where she compares herself with others. If so, she gets no help from her brother: he lives on three calories a day. Now that’s the best diet ever.

Since you might hate my treadmill idea, here are a few other options to help your kids run off some energy.