A glimpse of the tears falling from my daughter's eyes as we awaited her pediatrician coming into the examination room indicated I'd done the right thing. The nurse had just weighed her and again the numbers were not in her favor.
My 17yr old daughter has been making some serious changes to her life in recent months trying to shed some pounds. Sure, she's faltered a few times but who hasn't on this crazy weight loss grind? Still with all the cut backs and sweat drenching bouts of working out that she's been doing, that damn scale read no different. At the worse, the numbers increased. More than she was discouraged, I was upset and concerned.
What if she had a medical condition that her pediatrician missed? A thyroid condition, maybe. All of my life, I've heard women complain about thyroid problems. Although my daughter is a teenager, for all I know, she could be suffering from something like that too.
Of course, I didn't want that to be the case, BUT, I did want the doctor to tell me something different than what I'd been preaching all along. Especially for the $25 copayment that I forked over for this appointment.
No such luck--for lack of a better phrase. With my own eyes I saw the results of my daughter's result of her last physical. Everything, specifically her thyroid test, was normal.
Nevertheless the appointment and $25 copayment was not totally in vain. For starters, the appointment alone indicated that I take my daughter's desire to lose weight seriously. Second, she got to hear from a professional--not mom--that her weight has EVERYTHING to do with what she's putting in her mouth. She learned that life isn't fair and that her metabolism doesn't work hard for her so she's got to make it. How? By taking control and empowering herself to make the changes in her life necessary to get what she wants.
After the appointment, my daughter didn't ask me to buy any fast food. Instead she cooked a turkey burger and mixed vegetable for dinner. Hopefully she stays on track.
I want this for her almost as bad as she does.
20 years is far too long to be singing the "whoa is me" song about the body that I want and only I can create. 2015 is the year to shut up or put up!
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