How to love fat

I've been itching to make butter ever since my sister in law posted about it a few weeks ago.  So we picked up some fresh cream from our cow share and were surprised at how simple the process was.

All I did was poor it into the food processor, add a bit of salt and press "on".

In less than 10 minutes I heard a sloshing sound and saw it had separated.

I poured off the liquid (buttermilk) and saved it for baking or pancakes.

Then pressed the remaining solids into a few butter jars.

Of course we spread it on warm toast right away.  And here we are only a few days later and we are already halfway through it all (maybe because I've caught a few fingers in it eating it straight?)

It is kind of funny how afraid I use to be of butter, or any fat for that matter.  But now I am in a season where fats (the good ones) are an essential part of my diet.  I'm in no place to articulate the "why's" but after reading Weston Price's Nutrition and Physical Degeneration I was convinced that I my body (and my children's) could benefit from more nutrient dense food.  And I love that one of the ways in which we do that is through butter and full fat dairy products!

In addition to butter I have been consistent in taking fish oil.  This is not as yummy as butter and actually a bit expensive but I do it as an investment in my long term health.  Not all my children will take this willing, they prefer other brands that are flavored, but George and Henry would drink this (the fermented one) straight from the bottle if I allowed them to, probably because I've been taking this since they were both very young and throughout my pregnancies.  I admit it was very hard for me to swallow at first but after a few years it is starting to taste good to me too!  They do make cinnamon and chocolate flavored variations but I prefer my fermented fish oil as is.

Now this brings me to a few more thoughts on fat.  I was changing in front of the mirror the other day and felt the corners of my mouth start to turn down to a frown, I heard the old crazy voice that existed even before I was a teenager say......"you are fat"!  The pattern is all too familiar.......it opens the door to feelings of disgust and in turn triggers the action of physically abusing myself in the form of depriving myself of food, or over exercising, or both.  

This time I fought back violently with the thought..... I am not fat, I am me.  Sure I have a bit of excess flesh after having my eighth baby but that flesh is there to serve me, it provides soft cushion to cuddle a squishy newborn and it is the very reserve that nourishes my baby, protecting me from further physical depletion.  

Why is it that we are so crazy as new mother's to "get back to normal" physically?  Maybe the "normal" I am trying to get back into (size 2 skinny jeans) is not even normal at all, maybe I am already "normal" right now and what I'm trying to get back into is "crazy". 

This may sound all too personal but it feels good to process, even if it is in front of an unknown audience.  And even if my only audience was my two little daughters I would shout it out to them from the depths of my heart and up top the high roof of our old barn because this battle is so unserving to the beautiful and powerful women it plagues.  Oh how I wish someone would have declared it to me at a much younger age, from their heart, that I was beautiful, that all women are beautiful, no matter what the shape, size or form.   

So still standing there half dressed in front of the mirror my thought process continued, it turned from beating myself up over excess flesh to the chuckling thought...."my body looks like a renaissance painting........I am a masterpiece".  What a refreshing thought, I then looked up at my pregnant belly cast and thought of all the amazing things my body was capable of, including growing a baby and giving birth.  

Our bodies are a gift no matter what the shape or size, and our worth is not dependent upon the variables of our physical form.  I can't believe it has taken me so many years to understand this truth but I do look forward to the freedom it will allow in living it.  Because the truth is this is a battle I faced even wearing size 2 jeans.

Now that doesn't mean I'll be stuffing my face with cookies and fast food because that is just another form of physical abuse.  But I will certainly eat when I am hungry and love the food that I eat, butter on my bread, whole milk in my cereal and liberal amounts of olive oil on my veggies.  And simply love being me, in any physical form, however that may look, today.