Chapter 5: Oh Momma

There’s nothing like getting together with family to get your nerves up. And there’s REALLY nothing like getting together with family you haven’t seen in years, especially when you’ve ballooned up in weight during that time. I had just turned 23 years old and I was not looking forward to the stares and comments I was sure to get when all of my extended relatives arrived at my mother’s house for a big Christmas party. I had learned to be cool with my gain, but I wasn’t bulletproof and I wasn’t sure if I could stand the potential non-stop scrutiny.

Once the party was underway, my fears proved to be a bit exaggerated. Nobody really said too much about the extra weight, aside from a quick joke or two about how I was “one of them” now. As I’ve mentioned, I was always kind of the odd one out amongst the women of my family. Not emotionally in any way, but appearance-wise. I was a relatively thin girl surrounded by all these portly women. But anyone who saw me walking through that party could certainly see the family resemblance now. There was a giddiness in the air, as if people were happy to see me finally join the fat club after so many years. It was probably just my imagination, but that’s what it felt like. One person who was definitely giddy was my Aunt Rose. She lived in Florida so we didn’t get to visit with her much. She seemed almost thrilled to see that I had turned into a house. And the thing about Aunt Rose is, she isn’t shy at all. And she has absolutely no idea when she’s embarrassing somebody. Unlike my other relatives, she didn’t hesitate to start blabbering about all the weight I’d gained. Some of the “greatest hits” from our conversation included classic Aunt Rose lines such as:

“Same thing happened to your mother and I; one day your metabolism just goes right to hell. Then before you know it, your ass is sticking out ten feet behind you. Although I bet the boys like it when you shake that big butt, huh?”

“Look at these boobs you’ve got. What are you up to now? A double-D?”

“I see you’ve even grown out the family belly.” (She actually grabbed hold of my gut and shook it around at this point. I know, she’s crazy.)

And then she dropped this gem: “I wish I could plop you on a scale right now. I bet you’re gonna catch up to your mother and I pretty soon.”

I took it all in stride and laughed at her jokes, but it was just an automatic response. I was a million miles away in my head, wondering just how true her “you’re gonna catch up to your mother” comment really was. I hadn’t thought about it too much before that, and now that I did I had to admit I probably was closing in on my mom. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be anywhere near my mother’s weight.

When the party finally died down and all our extended family members said their goodbyes, it was just Sarah, my parents and myself left. Sarah had headed up to her room, and dad was in the den watching the news, while my mother and I cleaned up in the kitchen. I was still thinking about what Aunt Rose had said about my weight catching up to her and my mom. I looked over at my mother as she cleaned and knew I was definitely close in the pounds department. She was rounder than me, but I was a few inches taller than her, so it was hard to say who weighed more. The fact that it was even close blew my mind, considering how huge she had always seemed to me when I was younger. Finally my curiosity got the best of me and I told her about my conversation with Aunt Rose.

“Well, now that you mention it, she might be right” she chuckled.

“How much do you weigh?” I asked. It’s a rude thing to ask, I know, but I just had to know. Besides, my mother and I could talk about anything. Why should this be different?

“Oh, I don’t know, Anne” she said. “I haven’t stepped on a scale in a long time. I think I was 265 or so last I knew. So probably around there somewhere. What about you, dear? How much do you weigh now?”

I hadn’t weighed myself in months. I knew I was fat; the exact number hadn’t been too important to me. When I had weighed myself last, I was 250 or so, and I had definitely gotten bigger since then. We really were close. Still, for some reason I lied.

“I weigh, like, 245” I said.

“Oh, well then you don’t have to worry about catching up to Rose and I for a long time” my mom chuckled as she patted her round belly.

We then went back to cleaning and talking about whatever things we talked about. After we finished I headed upstairs to use the bathroom before I headed home. Or at least that’s what I said I was doing. What I was really doing was getting the scale out from under the bathroom sink and seeing how close I had gotten to my overweight mom. I quietly pulled out the scale and stepped up onto it. I was 262 pounds. I wasn’t shocked by the number; I knew I had gained a good amount since my last weighing. More than anything I felt shock that I was almost fatter than my mother.

I left shortly after that, and when I arrived back home I put away some of the gifts I’d gotten, including all the clothes that were too small and would have to be exchanged for bigger sizes. Around then I got a call from my mom. Apparently my question about her weight piqued her curiosity, and she decided to weigh herself for the first time in years. The look on my face must’ve been a sight to see when she gleefully told me that she had actually lost weight and was now 256 pounds. I don’t even remember the rest of the phone call. I just remember sitting on the edge of my bed after I hung up, and trying to contemplate what was happening. I now weighed more than my mother, who had always been a blimp to me when I was growing up. I couldn’t believe it. I had gotten so fat. I laid in bed that night and thought about all the fat people that I was probably going to be bigger than someday. It was so strange knowing that I was now the fattest person in a family of fat people.