A friend's infant recently had trouble keeping food down. Failing to gain weight, she was diagnosed with gastro-intestinal reflux disease and eventually prescribed medication. As the medicine started to take its effect, the baby held on to her meals and began to gain weight, and celebrations of her newfound pudge ensued.
I realized that this is the last time in this girl's life that we'll delight in her weight. Too soon, any excess poundage will be accompanied by frowns, pity, and prescriptions to take it off. When she starts school, we'll tell her that she'll make friends a little more easily, and get teased a little less frequently, if she just loses some weight. As she gets older, we'll insist that if she diets, she'll have the boy/guy/man of her dreams. And, throughout her life, we'll note that she's just five pounds away from feeling better about herself.
And I wonder, if we'll ever remember the time when we reveled in the chubbiness of her infant thighs.