Setting goals, and learning to get over the past.

It's not very often these days that I can look back on a day and say that one of my boys has made me feel incredibly proud. You see, my boys are of an age where they are either in their tweens, or teens, and that means lot's of moping about, feeling bored, and generally behaving as if every moment in life represents the end of the world as they know it. Yes, welcome to the early stages of puberty. Like most siblings, they fight a lot, and complain a lot more, and they whine more than my two dogs do when they are begging to go for a walk - and more often than not the dogs are whining to walk, while the boys are whining because they are being told to walk the dogs!! Yes, it's a vicious circle. I can't really complain though, because for the most part, I've got two really great kids, and they give me a lot less grief in many ways than other parents get, but still there are those days when I find myself in the role of the bad guy sucking all of the fun out of my boys lives. It is then with the greatest relief that I find myself today feeling immense pride for my younger son, who showed me that he has not only learned from his father's advice, but that he has embraced it and used it to assert himself.

My younger boy has a weight problem, and has had it for a number of years now.  To say that he is overweight is to be all politically correct in the way that people try to be when they want to avoid giving a child a complex about some issue.  Realistically, he is eleven-and-a-half years old, and if he was an adult he would be classed as clinically obese. It's a situation that started off innocently enough, because he's a boy who has always loved his food, right from the day he first tried solid food. His mum always felt that her little boy should be able to eat as much as he wanted, and always gave him portions that would have surprised your average Great Dane, and as a result, my son became quite overweight when he was only about 6 or 7 years old. Sadly, it was about 5 years ago that his mother and I separated, and out lovely happy little boy lost that innocent light in his eyes, and turned to food as a means to comfort himself as his family fell apart around him.

I've read many articles over the years to do with childhood obesity, and how it has become a bit of an epidemic in Western Society. I've read about teen-aged children having arterial weakening and occlusion that would normally have only been seen in people aged in their 40's or higher, and how people as young as their early 20's are having heart attacks, and suffering from diabetes and other weight related illnesses.  I've feared that these conditions could one day affect my son and I have felt powerless to be able to prevent such a fate for my boy. I've also listened to so many reports about how my boy has been bullied, and teased, and generally ostracized, simply because he has grown overweight, and I have seen the toll that this has taken on him, and how it has been affecting his quality of life at school, his grades, and his self esteem.

I have spent the better part of the last 4 years trying to find ways to help my son lose the excess weight.  Exercise and diet are the keys, and yet it's been a real struggle to motivate him to do what he needs to to dig himself out of the hole he is in.  On top of this of course is that I have been convinced that my boy has been suffering from depression for a long time now. While I can't comment on his mother's efforts to date, I can honestly say that I have tried everything I can to counsel my boy and try to drag him out of the depths of his despair. I've had a few breakthroughs with him these last couple of years, and although he still won't often bring himself to talk about his troubles, he has been slowly returning to the bubbly child he naturally wants to be, and has started to show me more often that he is more interested in losing the excess weight for himself. It's like he has been grieving for a long time, and has now reached a point where he can start to put his pain aside, and begin his own personal journey of healing.

My son is presently staying with his mother, and so I phone him today as I often do, and asked him what he had been up to.  OK, a quick digression. We've been talking on and off lately about how to work out whether he is eating too much or not enough, and I introduced him to a simple measuring system that I had read about where he can use his hand as a guide to the amounts he should eat. On his last couple of nights at home, I asked him to see if he could remember the method and to tell me how much dinner to put onto his plate. He told me the appropriate amounts, and when I deliberately added a little to much to his plate, he asked me to remove some. He was correct in his assessment both times, and I told him that I would be getting him to set his amounts every time I serve food to him from now on.

Now, you'd think that I'd be pleased that my son had given me the correct answer when I asked him if he had the correct amount of food on his plate, and honestly I was, but it was today that I learned how well he had learned the lesson. When I chatted with my son today, he rather proudly told me today that he had surprised his mother by asking her to limit his dinner portion to an amount that is appropriate for his size, and that he applied the hand measure to guide his mother's serving.  The first words his mother said to him were "are you sure this will be enough for you?". My boy then told his mum that he eats like this all the time, and that he doesn't feel hungry afterwards. I could just imagine his mother's jaw hitting the floor!! This is the boy that only about 2 years ago was telling me he would often ask his mother for a second or even third helping! The boy who would put away a jumbo sized adult meal, and while the adults were all loosening their belts and searing never to eat so much again, he'd be looking around for yet another dessert helping! I sear that I never pushed my boy to do this.  Sure, we had discussed how to avoid overeating and discussed how to eat nutritiously, but I never told him to go up to his mother and tell her to start controlling his portions.  This is something he has decided to do completely on his own.

Apparently his mother has refrained from sending our son for a CAT-scan, but I'm sure she's thinking he must have either hit his head, or have been stolen and replaced by aliens. As for me, I learned a couple of things today.  First, was that my son has made me feel very proud of him for choosing to actually take matters into his own hands and to look after his own health. The second is that it had confirmed what I had long suspected, that his meals at his mother's house had been served for years in portions too large for a boy his age. The third is that this is a sign I have been waiting a long time for. And indication that my boy has found the strength within himself to focus on something that has become increasingly important to him, and that this may be a sign that he is starting to finally set his depression aside and work towards healing himself. I am so very proud of him, and that he has chosen this for himself.

My son has told me that he is interested in joining the Air Force and trying to become a fighter pilot. When I told him about the level of fitness he would need to achieve, and the need to be able to really focus on his tasks I saw him talking very enthusiastically about something that has become a growing interest in him. The greatest thing though is that this idea of becoming a pilot has awoken a desire in my son to set a goal to achieve. It's a long way off, but he realizes that he will need to improve his health and fitness if he wants to realize his dreams. It's become something to focus his energies on, and finally given him something to really keep him motivated. My son has started to really push himself in his daily workouts, and where before I would need to effectively bribe him to  do something as basic as dragging out the WiiFit to play a couple of exercise games, now he voluntarily gets on my rowing machine for some interval training, or will happily work out under his step-mother's guidance to get in a session of stretching, balance, and basic conditioning exercises. It's a real turn about for him, and the efforts are beginning to show even after only two weeks.

My son has set himself a goal to either maintain his present weight for the next 2 weeks, or to lose at least a kilogram by the time he returns to me. I have a feeling that he just might achieve his goal this time if he manages to keep up with his exercise and portion control while he is away. I really hope he does it too, not simply because I would like to see him lose a little weight, but because I believe that he will become more focused if he has a win and actually manages to achieve one of the goals that he has set for himself.  Success can be a great motivator. The irony is that if I manage to teach my son to achieve some of his goals, that his success story will ultimately become mine as well.