I remember holding my daughter for the first time and looking into her eyes. Although small, her eyes told a story filled with infinite possibilities. I saw motherhood as being a lifetime of firsts – first words, first steps, first recital – each one flooding my heart with abundant joy and love.

First dance recital

As my “baby” turned into my “little princess”, I could see the change in her eyes.

Now when I look into her eyes, I can still see her beauty growing inside, but most importantly, when it comes to looking for a glimpse into what her future can be, I see that her brown eyes are right there, staring back at me.

My daughter is at a highly impressionable age, in which almost every experience doubles as a possible influence. Limiting her TV to PBS and videos has not been a strong enough gatekeeper to thwart the efforts of kid-targeted advertisers. Short of blindfolding my daughter in the grocery store, or leaving her behind, it’s hard to prevent her from being bombarded by the countless kid-targeted products, placed perfectly at her eye level – of course. And if the pressures on TV and the in-store advertisements weren’t hard enough, I have to compete with the greatest threat of all – kid-to-kid, word-of–mouth advertising.

The kids on the playground and in the classroom are like parakeets, repeating whatever they hear at home and sharing their likes and dislikes, which influences how my daughter perceives different foods. I’m constantly being told by advertisers, other parents, even my own daughter what I should be buying.

Wait a minute, Mr. Advertiser, unless you plan on contributing to her college fund and the weekly grocery budget, you don’t get to have a say in how my child is raised.

I felt like my voice was quickly becoming out numbered. If advertisers are spending more than $2 billion a year to target children, I’m going to need some reinforcements. That’s also when I realized one very important thing. Yes, there are many negative distractions vying for my daughter’s attention, but at the end of the day, her eyes are still on me. I get to decide what the next move will be. My decision was simple, reassert my role as CEO of my household, as the Head Product and Produce Inspector, as Chief Health and Wellness Ambassador, in other words- MOM.

I have a family history of diabetes, both type 1 and type 2, but I’ve decided to pass on a different family tradition. One in which we live to prevent diabetes, not find ways to live in spite of it. The studies show that 1 in 3 children are projected to develop diabetes in their lifestyle, losing up to 23 years of life. But when I look into my daughter’s eyes, I’m reminded of the vow I took in my heart to love and protect her. And right now, statically, diabetes is her biggest threat.

You’ve probably heard the saying that it takes a village to raise a child. Well, I believe this has never been more true than today. I feel so grateful to have other friends and family in our lives whose actions reinforce our values of living a healthy lifestyle. My daughter’s eyes might be on me, but she’s also looking to see who else supports the values and ideal that I put forth.

(*Please click on each of the 10 numbers below to see the pictures.)

Since my daughter was born, we tried to be a living example of what it means to live a healthy lifestyle. Each week we have a family day, which generally incorporates both family fun and physical activity.  We also make a conscious decision to expose her to various forms of competitive events. Since before my daughter was 2 years old, she’s been going with us to cheer on our friends at their marathons. When we can’t cheer them on in person, we show her photos of the event and talk about their accomplishments.

My daughter goes to see Jarod run his first marathon

“Come on guys, let’s run like Lindsay.”

Last month, I signed us up for our first Mother-Daughter 5k. Two weeks prior to our race, we cheered on her “Auntie” Lindsay at her first ½ marathon. My little runner’s eyes beamed as she watched Lindsay run towards the finish line. In that moment, my daughter idolized Lindsay, and my heart was happy. I knew that a new connection had been made, linking my daughter’s understanding of what exercise is and why we do it, to an actual desire to grow and develop as a runner.

So proud of her Auntie Lindsay for doing a 1/2 marathon

After Lindsay’s ½ marathon, my daughter couldn’t wait to participate in her own race. She asked several times a day, every day, for two weeks, “When do I get to do my race Mommy?” Then she’d tell my husband, “Daddy, you have to cheer like Jarod (Lindsay’s husband), and say wooooo really loud. Okay Daddy?”

The day before the race, my daughter and I went to the pre-race expo and picked up our bibs. As we stood in line, my little runner told everybody within an earshot how she was going to “win” her race tomorrow. She’d say, “Are you running tomorrow, cause I am, and I’m gonna run super fast, so I can win.” Seeing her excitement filled my heart with joy.

Picked up our bibs and are ready for our race.

After what seem like months to my mini-me, the day of our Mother-Daughter race finally came, but the circumstances were less than ideal. A huge storm came through San Diego that weekend. This part of sunny California was, well, anything but sunny.

The night before, I watched as the rain pelted against the window and the trees swayed. I didn’t want to get the mail in that weather, much less do a 5k. We had a little dress rehearsal, trying on several combinations of fleece jackets and rain gear. I tossed and turned throughout the night, worrying if I was making the right choice by subjecting her to such inclement weather. But then I remembered the cover of the Parents magazine that I just saw, “Raising a kid that won’t give up”.

Maybe this race can be much more than a lesson about physical activity and living a healthy lifestyle. It’s an opportunity to show my daughter that life is anything but easy, but we have a choice. We can cower and hide from adversity, or we can decide to dance in the rain. When we properly equip ourselves, we can fight through whatever we are going through, and come out a winner at the end.

Showing our medals.

On the big day, I quickly put in an appeal to God as we pulled away from the house. “Lord, I can handle the cold, but I don’t know if I can put my daughter through this rain.”  Despite my growing anxiety, we headed towards the race, knowing I reserved the right to pull out of the race if I didn’t feel it was safe to continue. As soon as we approached the parking lot for the event, the rain stopped. I looked to the skies and smiled in gratitude.

My daughter talked about how excited she was during the car ride, but as soon as the wind hit her face, she began to get scared. “Mommy I want to go inside.” “Oh honey, we can’t go inside”, I said. “The race is outside. Don’t be scared. It’s just the wind, and you’ll warm up as soon as we get moving.”

I pinned her bib, #678, to her Hello Kitty rain jacket, and we were off. The first part of the course was the hardest, because my 32 pound child had to fight her way against 40 mile an hour winds. I held her hand tightly in my grasp; it was almost as if I were afraid the wind might take her away.

Before I knew it, my little competitor had turned her focus from the blistering winds and fringed weather to people in the race that she wanted to catch up to or pass. One was a little girl that was almost 2 years her elder.

A friend she met along the way.

Including the inevitable potty break – she is 4 after all – we crossed the finish line, hand-in-hand in less than 50 minutes.

It’s funny, because now when my little 5ker tells her story, she doesn’t bring up the cold weather or wind. She says, “I crossed the finish line with my mommy.”

When I see the world through my daughter’s eyes, I see plenty of negative temptations, but I also see hope. She is surrounded by so many people, parents, aunties and uncles, neighbors and friends, all helping to challenge what has become “the norm” and instead promote living healthfully.

As for me, our first Mommy and Me race is a day I will never forget. Thinking about what she accomplished, walking (evening running) her first 5K before the age of 5, fills me with tremendous amounts of love and pride.

I look back smiling, because it turns out it did shine brightly that day. It just wasn’t in the sky. It was on her face.

ABOUT ME: My name is Marlayna. I’ve recently shared my story about why I chose to LIVE MY LIFE WITH INTENTION- my life’s journey towards becoming who I am today (click here to read it). I’m a mother, wife, friend, and a diabetes prevention advocate. I occassionally blog about living a healthy lifestyle.

Honestly, I feel like a day of gratitude isn’t enough (especially if Hallmark has coerced someone into it). Afterall,  being a mom can be a 24/7, 365 day, up at 6, down at 9 (if you’re lucky),  no-sick day, vacation day optional, kinda gig.

As CEO of our household, we’re  given the most important and rewarding job, which comes with long-term job security.  We do more things in 24 hrs than some people do in a month. Watch this clip and you’ll see what I mean!!!!

I’ll be the first to admit, I didn’t really understand the importance of Mother’s Day until I started raising my own toddler.

Now when I hear people say things like, “We never know the love of the parent until we become parents ourselves” (which I believe is by Henry Ward Beecher), I actually know what they mean. Then again, I can also related to the “great poop conversations” that seem to take place everywhere I go.

It’s actually kinda funny when you think about it… You know you’ve graduated from college when you receive your diploma, but you know you graduated into motherhood when you are comfortable swapping poop stories. Prior to becoming a mom, when the inevitable poop chat that came up at baby showers, that was the queue to leave the room.

There is no doubt… motherhood is a club, a sorority, a sisterhood all of its own. We rely on each other for advise, encouragement, and reassurance that we aren’t messing up our kids too badly.

During the month of May, let’s remember to praise and show our appreciation to ALL MOTHERS!  An act of kindness, recognition for a job well-done, or maybe a glass of wine at the end of a long day goes a long way.

It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes the support of your “sisters” to make sure it is done correctly!

I want to say THANK YOU to all of our Skinny Gene Mommas, for all that you do!  

As I said, I think Mother’s Day should be for the entire month of May…..

To say thank you for all you do, we want to honor all of our Mother’s that work so hard to provide their children with a  happy and healthy home. 

1^st– For the entire month of May, we are giving you a FREE 12-month membership to our Skinny Gene Online Community. Just Click Here to learn more and accept your gift!

2^nd– I think a little comic relief is the best remedy for a hard day. Please join me in sharing some funny stories about motherhood.  Got a funny forward? Read a funny blog? Did your child do something that cracked you up?  Let’s give each other a little laugh!!! Add your stories to the comment section below!!!

To start us off, here’s an email a friend forwarded to me awhile back. ENJOY!!! 

….

My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. He loves to communicate and does it quite well. He talks to people constantly, whether we are in the library, the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often comment on how clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old.

And you never have to ask him to turn up the volume. It’s always fully cranked. There have been several embarrassing times that I’ve wished the meaning of his words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this more than last week at Costco.

Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade with me into the restroom. If you’d been one of the ladies in the restroom that evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the last stall:

”Mommy, are you gonna go potty?   Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper on the potty, Mommy?  Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now?  Mommy, what are you doing?  Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?”

At this point I started mentally counting how many women had been in the bathroom w hen I walked in. Several stalls were full … 4? 5?  Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my debut out of this stall and reveal my identity.

Cade continued, ”Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren’t you?   Oh, dats a good girl, Mommy!   Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty?  Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh … Mommy!  I’m trying to see In dere.

Oh! I see dem.  Dat is a very good girl, Mommy.  You are gonna get some candy!”

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me.

Where is a screaming new born when you need her?  Good grief!!  This was really getting embarrassing.  I was definitely waiting a long time before exiting.  Trying to divert him, I said, ”Why don’t you look in Mommy’s purse and see if you can find some candy. We’ll both have some!”

”No, I’m trying to see doze stinkies… Oh! Mommy!”  He started to gag at this point.   ”Uh – oh, Mommy.  I fink I’m gonna frow up. Mommy, doze stinkies are making me frow up!!  Dat is so gross!!”

As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall.  I quickly flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject.  I began to reason with myself:  Okay… there are four other toilets.  If I count four flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those who overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

”Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now?  I want you to be done going stinkies!  Get up! Get up!”  He grunted as he tried to pull me off.   

Now I could hear full-blown laughter.  I bent down to count the feet outside my door.

”Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy?  You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at?  Mommy?  You wooking at the wady’s feet?”

More laughter…I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess the situation.

”Mommy, it’s time to wash our hands, now.  We have to go out now, Mommy.”  He started pounding on the door. ”Mommy, don’t you want to wash your hands?  I want to go OUT!!”

I saw that my wait ’em out’ plan was unraveling.  I sheepishly opened the door and found standing outside my stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all smiling and starting to applaud. 

My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I thought, where’s the fine print on the ‘motherhood contract’ where I signed away every bit of my dignity and privacy?

But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands, I thought, I’d sign it all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow.