Believe it or not, Bea was not embarrassed by me. Jeff had told her that her ability to attend camp was contingent upon her taking a new level of responsibility for her eating, and upon accepting whatever help the camp might be able to provide. So she was motivated to be successful. She had decided that should any curious fellow campers inquire why a counselor helped her decide what to eat, she’d tell them that her mom was a little nuts about nutrition. Not that she was on a diet, which was too controversial and emotional a statement to make, or that she had a weight problem, which is something no one would suspect by looking at her. Just that she had a plain old annoying health-conscious mom. Yawn.
We drove home after moving her into her bunk, a lump in my throat. This was the longest period of time we’d ever been apart. I was going to miss that little girl. My daughter. My friend.
That first week, I felt confident that Bea’s eating was being carefully monitored and that her choices were being guided by the suggested meals I’d emailed to the camp. I heard from her counselor via email that she was doing well and making good food decisions. The weight she reported to me after the first week was stable. I was promised the next week’s menu so that I could provide continued guidance.
But the following week’s menu never came. Nor did any subsequent weigh-ins. All communication about her eating ceased. A year earlier, I probably would have called the camp every day to find out what was up, maybe even driven up there to see what was going on. But instead I was relaxed. I had confidence in Bea. I envisioned her walking up to that cafeteria food line and making the right choices. I knew in my mind that she had the tools to eat right, and I felt in my heart that she was using them.
Three weeks later, when we came to get her, we found out the truth. No one had accompanied Bea on the food line, escorted her to the snack bar, or watched her at canteen. No one had shown her the meal suggestions I’d emailed to her counselor, and no one had checked that she’d signed up for some elective that involved physical activity every day. She hadn’t even opened the nutrition doctor’s booklet she’d brought with her for reference (with a strip of duct tape modestly covering the words “Childhood and Adolescent Weight Management” on the cover).
She had made all her food and activity choices on her own.
On that day we picked her up, we joined her for lunch. I watched from afar as she grabbed a plate and stepped up to the food servers in the cafeteria. I saw her ask for one piece of chicken and some broccoli. She shook her head to decline the offered bread, rice, and potatoes (three starches? Come on, people). At the beverage dispenser, she bypassed the fruit punch, soda, and lemonade and took water.
We sat down to eat. “I didn’t know it at first, but they have dessert in the cafeteria every day for lunch and dinner,” she told me.
“How did you handle it?” I asked.
“I didn’t have it every day,” she said without regret. “Sometimes I’d ask for like a quarter of a brownie, just to try it.” I was bursting with pride. I told her that was a great way of dealing with it.
We stopped by the snack bar later for relief from the sweltering heat. “Have an ice pop, Mom,” she suggested. “The little ones only have twenty-five calories.” She picked up an apple on her way out.
I asked her how the nightly canteen was. She admitted that she felt jealous that other campers enjoyed pizza and ice cream every night and she only permitted herself to join them twice a week, but she’d survived. She’d come and just dance or hang out and have fruit instead of the other stuff. She’d had fun.
In addition to being in a play and studying circus (you should see her twirl hoops), she had elected to go to the fitness center every day to work out, of her own accord. She’d also gone to cooking class, but only once. And she’d done swimming, water sports, jewelry making, tie-dyeing, and everything else she wanted. There had been a voluntary four-kilometer race for charity early one weekend morning, and she’d participated.
Bea had spent three weeks on her own, with more food and more independence than she’d ever had to contend with before. She hadn’t gained a single pound.
More than any weight she reached, dress size she achieved, or attitude shift I witnessed, to me this experience was the closest to what I’d be willing to claim as victory. A couple of years earlier, that camp environment would have been a disaster for Bea nutritionally. Now she handled it like a champ. She didn’t feel like an outsider or like she was different. She was a regular, healthy kid. A normal kid.
We’d taught her how to eat properly, and she had taken those lessons and made them a part of her life. Isn’t that what we parents hope for?
Despite her mature and responsible behavior, Bea is still Bea. She will still shout excitedly at the television when a cheeseburger appears onscreen. Her favorite iPhone app is one in which she can bake digital cookies, decorate them, and eat them with taps of her finger. She asks to stop in one food establishment or another every time we walk anywhere. When I asked her the other day which word in the English language was her favorite, she answered without hesitation that it was bakery because she likes “how it sounds and what it is.”
She has not lost her love of food, nor the joy she takes in eating it. She just doesn’t do it quite as much. She told me recently that she had a dream about ice cream. But in the dream, the ice-cream menu featured calorie counts.
I’m happy to say she still has her belly. The belly she got from me. The belly she used to suck in as she stood in front of the mirror. The belly she still professes to dislike. The belly I love to hug. It’s a reminder she isn’t “perfect” by the unnatural standards of our culture, as reflected everywhere from Vogue to Nickelodeon. It is a delicious, sweet, evolving symbol of her struggle and her determination.
It’s also a reminder of the threat she lives with every day. The looming possibility that she could easily become an unhealthy weight again. It’s a reminder to me that I still need to protect her. Sometimes that means refusing to let her make a choice that’s bad for her. Increasingly it means letting her make her own choices and hoping for the best. I will eventually have to let go. She’s given me lots of reasons to believe she’ll stay on the right track.
Sure, I fantasize about a future in which an adolescent Bea grows six inches in a year and suddenly becomes effortlessly, permanently slender. I would love for her to grow up not having to think about food, not having to be careful about her weight. But I suspect that’s not in the cards. I expect that adorable tummy, like mine, isn’t going anywhere.
And yes, when I look at her belly or hug it, part of me wonders whether it will burden her in the future or become irrelevant, if it will grow or shrink. I wonder if I’ve done my job as a parent or backed off before my responsibility was met. Regardless of the questions, one thing is beyond doubt: I love that part of her. I love all of her. I wrap my arms around her as she lies next to me, tucked into the curve of my body. I grasp her belly in my hands and pull her close.
NOTES
CHAPTER 2
1 After conducting a study Cynthia Bulik, “Strange bedfellows: UNC Eating Disorders program, SELF magazine,” Chapel Hill News. Last modified May 26, 2008, http://www.chapelhillnews.com/2008/05/06/14350/strange-bedfellows-unc-eating.html.
CHAPTER 5
1 The statistics quantifying the extent “Childhood obesity facts,” Center for Disease Control and Prevention, last updated June 7, 2012, http://www.cdc.gov/healthyyouth/obesity/facts.htm.
2 When I was a kid Ibid.
CHAPTER 7
1 And each tablespoon “Cool Whip Whipped Topping—Free Ingredients,” Kraft, accessed September 12, 2012, http://www.kraftrecipes.com/Products/ProductInfoDisplay.aspx?SiteId=1&Product=4300000288.
2 Cool Whip Free became “Mini Fillo Shells: Nutritionals and Ingredients,” Athens, accessed September 12, 2012, http://www.athensfoods.com/products/consumerproduct.aspx?id=12.
3 In the stumbling-across-information-that-will-prove-your-own-hunch department Madison Park, “Twinkie diet helps nutrition professor lose 27 pounds,” CNN, published November 8, 2010, http://www.cnn.com/2010/HEALTH/11/08/twinkie.diet.professor/index.html.
4 A spokeswoman for the American Ibid.
5 Haub also said Ibid.
6 She criticized its use “Fittingly Mad: Cool Whip Free,” Fit Sugar, updated July 23, 2012, http://www.fitsugar.com/Fittingly-Mad-Cool-Whip-Free-371970.
7 She complained that Kraft Ibid.
8 As it turns out “Cool Whip Whipped Topping—Free Ingredients,” Kraft, accessed September 12, 2012, http://www.kraftrecipes.com/Products/ProductInfoDisplay.aspx?SiteId=1&Product=4300000288.
9 According to the Mayo Clinic Mayo Clinic staff, “Trans fat is double trouble for your heart health,” Mayo Clinic, published May 11, 2011, http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/trans-fat/CL00032.
CHAPTER 10
1 “If we push our bodies” Herman Pontzer, “Debunking the Hunter-Gatherer Workout,” The New York Times, published August 24, 2012, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/08/26/opinion/sunday/debunking-the-hunter-gatherer-workout.html.
2 “We’re getting fat” Ibid.
3 My anecdotal evidence John Cloud, “Why Exercise Won’t Make You Thin,” Time, published August 9, 2009, http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1914974,00.html.
4 The Centers for Disease Control “How much physical activity do children need?,” Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, page last updated: November 9, 2011, http://www.cdc.gov/physicalactivity/everyone/guidelines/children.html.
5 According to a study of third graders The National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, “Frequency and Intensity of Activity of Third-Grade Children in Physical Education,” Archives of Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine, February 2003, Vol. 157, No. 2, http://archpedi.jamanetwork.com/article.aspx?articleid=481246.
CHAPTER 12
1 During that year, the USDA Al Baker, “Lunch Trays Got Too Lean in City’s Fight Against Fat,” The New York Times, published September 4, 2012, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/09/05/nyregion/calories-in-some-nyc-school-lunches-were-below-federal-requirements.html.
2 It bears noting that subsequently Department of Agriculture, Food and Nutrition Service, “Nutrition Standards in the National School Lunch and School Breakfast Programs; Final Rule,” Federal Register, Vol. 77, No. 17, page 4111, published Thursday, January 26, 2012, http://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/FR-2012-01-26/pdf/2012-1010.pdf.
CHAPTER 13
1 As Thomas Frieden Thomas Frieden, The Weight of the Nation, dir. Dan Chaykin, HBO Documentary Films, 2012.
2 Forty-eight cupcakes My Fitness Pal, “Calories in Crumbs Bake Shop Classic Vanilla Cupcake (Small),” page last accessed September 12, 2012, http://www.myfitnesspal.com/food/calories/crumbs-bake-shop-classic-vanilla-cupcake-small-14646566.
CHAPTER 14
1 Of course, McDonald’s is famous “McDonald’s USA Nutrition Facts for Popular Menu Items,” McDonald’s, published December 2010, http://nutrition.mcdonalds.com/getnutrition/nutritionfacts.pdf.
CHAPTER 17
1 In 1994, an “expert committee” Ogden, Cynthia L., and Flegal, Katherine M., “Changes In Terminology for Childhood Overweight And Obesity,” National Health Statistics Report, Number 25, June 25, 2010.
2 In 2007, another expert committee Ibid.
3 They felt that Ibid.
CHAPTER 22
1 She’d told the blog Katie J.M. Baker, “Mom Puts 7-Year-Old on a Diet in the Worst Vogue Article Ever,” Jezebel, published March 22, 2012, http://jezebel.com/5895602/mom-puts-7+year+old-on-a-diet-in-the-worst-vogue-article-ever.
2 I also woke up to the fact Julie Bosman, “Tiger Mom, Meet Diet Enforcer,” New York Times, published March 30, 2012, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/01/fashion/dara-lynn-weiss-to-write-book-on-policing-young-daughters-diet.html.
3 I don’t know German “Monster-Mutter No. 1,” Kurier (Vienna, Austria), p. 15, April 12, 2012, http://kurier.at/archiv/volltext.php?schluessel=EGEEHGWPOWPROWGHAAOATPST&suche=burgenland&suchevonjahr=2012&suchevonmonat=04&suchevontag=12&suchebisjahr=2012&suchebismonat=04&suchebistag=19&step=prev&offset=399&simple=1&suchseite=.
CHAPTER 23
1 A New York Observer Kim Velsey, “I Scream, You Scream, Park Slope Parents Scream For No More Ice Cream,” The New York Observer, April 2, 2012, http://observer.com/2012/04/i-scream-you-scream-park-slope-parents-scream-for-no-more-ice-cream/.
2 While I felt like an Michael Gartland, “Park Slope parents back ban on ice-cream trucks in Prospect Park to avoid screaming kids,” New York Post, updated April 1, 2012, http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/slopers_creamy_river_lcaxb1lj4D0SHqo4f2K3GO.
3 One of the researchers stated Tori DeAngelis, “A genetic link to anorexia,” Monitor on Psychology, March 2002, American Psychology Association, http://www.apa.org/monitor/mar02/genetic.aspx.
FOR THE FAM
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Heavy is my first book. The fact that you are holding in your hands an actual published volume is thanks to the efforts of many talented, intelligent, supportive people who helped me through the process.
Thanks to David Kuhn, Jessie Borkan, and the staff at Kuhn Projects for making this dream come true, and to Grant Ginder for his hard work getting this project off the ground.
Thanks to those who provided information, opinions, or stories that became part of the book: Mary Bing, Carol Blanco, Robin Frank, Milton Heifetz, Kim Martin, Steven Tuber, and Danielle Adler Witchel.
Thanks to the trusted, smart friends who gave me their honest and endlessly helpful insights on the text: Hilary Hatch and Nina Chaudry.
Thanks to Erik Kahn for legal reassurance, the Ballantine art department for the delicious design, Amelia Zalcman for legal vetting, Penny Haynes for production, Priyanka Krishnan for editorial support, Quinne Rogers for online marketing guidance, and Benjamin “Mindy” Dreyer for attending to all the details.
Thanks to Susan Corcoran and Alison Masciovecchio for deftly handling publicity—no small task on this project.
Humble thanks to Libby McGuire for believing in me, for understanding why this book is important, for wanting to publish it even before it became controversial, and for her unwavering support when it did.
A million thanks to Marnie Cochran, who has spoiled me rotten as my editor by not only being great at what she does, but also cool and fun to work with. She has gone above and beyond as an advocate, mentor, and friend. She made my words a book, and me a writer.
Thanks to the various extended family members without whose support and approval I would have lacked the courage to write this book: Bonnie, Norman, Jackie, and Carolyn Weiss, and related spouses and children; Tata and Yossi; Michael and Judith; and the Kaufmann family and its offshoots.
Without Abigail Pogrebin this book would have remained a far-fetched idea in my brain: her steadfast confidence, helpful introductions, assiduous reviewing and editing of my work, and generous allocations of time and love made this project a reality. I am forever grateful for her friendship.
And finally, “thanks” doesn’t begin to approach the debt of gratitude I have to my husband and children. Their thoughts, encouragement, love, pride, and laughter are what made this book possible. They are amazing people. I am lucky and honored to call them my family.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DARA-LYNN WE
ISS is a freelance writer and producer of Internet, print, and television content. In April 2012 she wrote about helping her daughter lose weight in Vogue magazine’s “Up Front” column. She lives with her husband and two children in New York City.
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