Smashing the Scale

Given that it's New Year's Eve, I'm sure everyone has heard about (or made) New Year Resolutions.  That's kind of a given.  So question, how many of you have a New Year's Resolution about losing weight?  I'm going to guess that most of you reading this have that resolution.  Whether it's 5 pounds, 50 pounds, or 500 pounds, it doesn't matter.  What matters is WHY you want to lose the weight.

If your New Year's Resolution for losing weight is about losing weight for your health, that's awesome!  However, if you want to lose weight this next year so you can feel better about yourself, because you feel like you should, or because you want to fit in, I'd encourage you to make a New Year's Resolution about Smashing the Scale instead of losing weight.

What is smashing the scale?  Smashing the scale is the idea that people are more than their number on a scale.  This goes for everyone on the scale.  Let's face it, we live in a society of catch-22s.  If you're "too fat", you are automatically labeled as lazy, sloppy, weak-minded, and don't care about your appearance.  On the flip side, if you are "too skinny" you are automatically labeled as cold, anorexic, mean, and you've probably been told to just "eat a freaking sandwich!".  Are you serious?  Talked about damned if you do, damned if you don't!  So what if instead of labeling based on a number on the scale and started looking at personality?  That's what Smashing the Scale is all about!

I can give you some personal examples from my life and a few from my close friends' lives, just to give you a taste of what happens on a daily basis.

Freshman year of college I went to the doctor for a prescription for strep throat.  Before giving me the prescription, the doctor felt the need to tell me that "every health problem you're currently experiencing is related to your weight".  The only health problem I had was strep throat.  Pretty sure that had more to do with working in a classroom of sick kids than my weight.  He then asked about my exercise habits and was skeptical when I said I didn't have a car and walked everywhere, and that I participated in at least 2 exercise classes a week, as well as personal workouts.  When I left, I was given tons of information about weight loss, dieting, making healthy habits, a "Summary of Visit", and finally the prescription I'd come for.  Listed as the primary reason for me visit?  "Obesity".  The secondary reason for my visit?  "Strep Throat".  Umm excuse me?  I came in for Strep Throat, not once did I ask you about my weight, nor did I ask you about weight loss.  Thank you for making me feel like scum under a rock because my BMI isn't exactly where it should be.

A friend of mine went to the OB/GYN because her birth control had stopped working, even though she was taking it properly.  The doctor came in, glanced at her file and immediately said my friend needed bariatric surgery (weight-loss surgery) to correct the issue and refused to run no further tests.  After going to another doctor, it turned out my friend just needed a different type of birth control.

A different friend of mine is tiny.  Sometimes her size 00 pants were too big on her.  It's how she's built.  We walk around campus together and people express their surprise when she eats something from the Chinese place of KFC in the food court.  More than that, people ask if she's anorexic or if she's ever enjoyed ice cream before.  That's a pretty common occurrence for her, and naturally it bugs her.

The last story I'll share is actually from a 5 year old girl that I was babysitting.  Dress-up was one of her favorite activities, so after dinner I asked if she wanted to play dress up.  She agreed and ran upstairs.  I helped her tug her box of costumes into the middle of the room, and pulled out her Beauty and the Beast dress (the yellow ballgown that Belle wears) as it was her favorite dress and princess.  "Want to be Belle?" I asked holding up the gown.  She looked at the dress queerly then said, "I can't be Belle, she isn't fat like me."  I was shocked and then instantly broken-hearted.  This 5 year old girl, who wasn't not very large nor unhealthy, had already started comparing her body to the body of the princess on TV.  I hugged her, told her she was too pretty to be a princess anyway and put the dress back.  I asked if she'd rather run in the sprinkler and catch fireflies before bed instead of playing dress up.  She heartily agreed and we spent the rest of night acting like 5 year old girls should.  Not comparing bodies to models or worrying about how the swimsuit looked.

These stories are just examples of why we need to Smash the Scale!  Two girls berated at the doctor's office because the number on the scale said they were too big.  Another girl embarrassed almost every time she eats because the number on her scale says she is too small to eat.  Last, a 5 year old who thought she couldn't be a princess because her stomach wasn't completely flat anymore.

So for New Year's?  Let's Smash the Scale!  Let's see people personalities, achievements, and potential without regard as to what the scale says about them.  Let's focus on healthy instead of on skinny.  Let's stop counting calories and let our bodies be the judge.  Let's challenge the labels we're given based on our weight, because we are more than any label given to us.  More than that, let's learn to love our bodies, any shape and/or size, because there will never be a person just like us.  Start Smashing the Scale!

I'm Not Pregnant, Just Fat

That got your attention didn't it?  Well, as the title points out, I'm not pregnant, just fat.  That's not the remarkable thing.  The remarkable thing?  For one of the first times ever, I am wholly, WONDERFULLY, ok with that.

Like many others, I have looked at myself after a shower and created a mental list of everything wrong/disgusting about my body.  My face is round, my arms are flabby, my tummy jiggles, my thighs touch, my calves are large, on and on.  More than the fat, there were the stretch marks.  The wonderful little jagged purple lines that say, "Hey, look here!  You got bigger and we can prove it!  Look at us!".  Those marks eventually fade into a white color, but never completely fade.  As I looked at myself and my body in the mirror, I thought about all the bodies I see throughout the day.  The tiny celebrities on the cover of magazines, the athletes that are EVERYWHERE in a tiny town, and the actresses on my favorite television programs.  Yeah, I don't look like that, not even the smallest little bit.

In addition, I also went through middle school.  Being a fat student in a farming school and one who cried easily at that wasn't easy.  More than once people asked when my baby was due, or how far along I was.  All I could do was turn away so they wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.  I was also referred to as The Whale (yep I was awesome enough to be THE whale, not A whale), but for some reason, it was the pregnancy comments that hurt the most.  Maybe because I was afraid people wouldn't know I wasn't pregnant and would think I was a slut, but I digress.

So instead of taking the route of someone with high self-esteem and assuring myself that I was beautiful inside and out, I took the more common low self-esteem route, hatred.  I hated my tummy, the stretch marks, the round face, all of it.  I looked in the mirror and saw something that was all around disgusting.  Then I let that color everything around me.  I wore baggy clothing because no one wanted to see my body, I didn't bother trying to look nice because nothing I did would take the emphasis away from my fat, and I didn't go to the gym so that no one had to be subjected to seeing me wear shorts.

However, a few days ago I discovered an awesome new blog: The Militant Baker (www.themilitantbaker.com).  Written by a wonderfully adorable self proclaimed "fat chick", it's a great self-esteem boost for girls of all sizes.  The focus of the blog is body acceptance of all kinds, be it rail thin or more than a little larger than that.  After reading a few posts, I realized, I'm fat but I'm also me.  My weight doesn't change that.  The number on my scale doesn't change my bubbly personality, nor does it affect my intelligence.  It just is, much in the way my hair is currently black and my current favorite actor is Robert Downey Jr.

Once you see it that, it's easy to start seeing things you love about yourself.  For example, I love that when I pull my hair back, I get these perfectly formed cork-screw curls that frame my face.  I love that my eyes change color with what I'm wearing and get darker or lighter depending on my mood.  I love the curve of my hips, the perfect place to rest my hands,  I love the length in my legs, how my calves look awesome in shorts and heels.  Once you start seeing all the things you love about yourself, the jump to loving yourself isn't that far.  Actually it's not even a jump, more of a moderate step.

Once you find a way to love yourself?  Honey, you're unstoppable!  Suddenly most negative comments won't hurt so much and clothes will cease to be a never ending torment.  Why?  Because it doesn't matter.  You would be amazed at the difference a little bit of self-love and confidence can make in your overall appearance and even your mood.

So now?  Now my appearance isn't the driving factor in my life.  My happiness is, followed by my overall general health.  Now the things I'm choosing to do are because I want to, not because I feel I have to, and boy, does that make ALL the difference!  Suddenly, exercising isn't a chore because I love biking and hiking through the woods, and I'm not forcing myself to do it because I have to lose weight to be happy and attractive.  

So in summary, I'm 22 years old, and I'm not pregnant, I'm just fat.

Never Be Ashamed Of A Scar

Self-esteem has been a struggle for me for most of my life.  Always guided by society's views of "acceptable" appearances and the media, I fell short in every measure they offered.  My body was wrong, my hair was wrong, my face was wrong, my thoughts were wrong.  Everything about me was wrong, my grades, clothes, smile, teeth, speech, I kid you not, EVERYTHING about me was wrong.

The biggest of the "wrong"s?  My body.  This is an issue that I believe everyone will face.  I bet there's not a single person reading this blog that cannot name at least one physical appearance that they would change if they could.  I am no exception.  My stomach is too big, my boobs are too small, my thighs touch, my feet are super long, my cheeks are chubby.  I could keep going, I won't, but I could.  Honestly, I don't mind my body.  I'm used to it, it's a part of me.  Society on the other hand, well it's not ok with my body.  Here's the thing about the society we live in.  It's not enough for society to not by ok with you, it wants you to not be ok with you.

Does that make sense?  In other words, society as a whole isn't satisfied with supplying you with a label, oh no.  In addition to giving you a label, society wants you to believe in the label(s) you were given.  Those labels will then determine where you stand in society.  You're too fat?  You can go in this corner with the other "wrong" things.  You're rail thin?  Come to other corner with all the other examples of perfection.  (For the record, this post is not about fat-shaming, or skinny-shaming, and I'm fully aware that BOTH are a problem).  So let me give a personal example of what can happen when you find yourself in society's "wrong" corner.

I have a rocky past, I won't get into that here.  All that's relevant for this post is that because of some of the rocks in my past, food was an issue for me.  I had very little control over myself or the world around me.  So I controlled one of the few things I could, food.  However, instead of restricting the amount I ate like some would, I sought to eat as much as I could at all times.  That way I could also control my size in addition to the food.  

Needless to say, by the time I was a fifteen and a brand new freshman in high school, I was not a little girl.  At 5'6'' and 170 pounds, I was easily the target of many nasty comments from my peers, and occasionally adults.  It taught me to hate myself.  I stared in the mirror, cursing my stomach, my thighs, all of the fat I saw, even as I knew I wasn't going to change it.  The idea of self-love was completely laughable to me.  Maybe I could love myself if I was thin, maybe I'd love myself if that fat roll would disappear.  Then, disgusted with my body I sought out comfort food.  

I recognized the cycle I was in, but I wasn't able to break it.  I didn't have the courage to ask for help, nor did I think I could change.  However, as hatred continued to build up inside of me, things got worse.  I became depressed and eventually suicidal.  I spent my afternoons after school day dreaming about death, thinking about the multitude of ways to end life, and writing suicide notes for all the people I cared about.  I felt completely numb, hollow inside.  I started thinking that I was invisible, but more than that, I was convinced that nothing would ever make me feel anything again.  I remember thinking that I could walk in front of an on-coming car, and it would go right through me.  It wouldn't hurt, and I probably wouldn't even feel it.  Then I discovered a dangerous new friend.

The first time was an accident.  While working on a sewing project I accidentally pricked my finger (to this day I still loathe thimbles).  A single drop of blood welled up from the small puncture wound.  I stared at it, the prick didn't really hurt, at least I didn't register pain.  All I registered was that I was bleeding.  In spite of feeling dead, in spite of feeling like nothing existed within me, I was bleeding.  I kind of smiled to myself as I realized that for the first time in a long time, I felt something.  The blood also let me feel alive again.  I didn't feel as empty as I had the split second before.  I wiped off my finger, got a band-aid, and put away my sewing, feeling happier than I had in months.

The next day, girls at school began their tormenting.  By the time I got back home, I felt dead again.  I was sitting in my room when I saw my sewing basket.  I thought if it worked once, maybe it would work again.  I opened the kit, took out my needle, hiked up my skirt, and started drawing the needle back and forth on my skin.  It stung a little, but pain was a feeling.  Little by little, the cut got deeper, and it started to bleed.  I smiled, I was still alive.  

From then on it was a cycle.  A cut here after a rough day, another one right underneath it to make it even.  One for the failed quiz, one for being called a "fat pig".  A small one from a rough day, a series of ten from when I broke off my engagement and consequently found myself single again.  Sometimes, I didn't make a new cut, I simply picked at the scabs from the healing ones.  The effect was the same, a little pain, a little blood, an overall feeling of relief.  

Things changed, my life changed for the better, and a retired my needle.  For a time.  That's the thing about cutting.  It's not dangerous because it doesn't work, it's dangerous because it does.  So you can put it away for a time, then go back to it like you never stopped.

Something that always struck me odd about cutting was it's much easier to hide the healing cuts than it is to hide the scars.  When someone sees a healing cut, there's a million excuses, especially if it doesn't look deep and you avoid the "hotspots", like the wrist.  "The dog jumped on me" or "I accidentally brushed past an exposed screw and it caught me".  However, you can't do that with scars.  Scars are a mark of trauma to the skin.  Therefore "scratches" shouldn't leave scars.  So when someone spots the white line on your thigh because your shorts rode up, that's much more difficult to explain than the narrow scab in the same place.

So I got in the habit of hiding mine.  That's another thing about society, mental issues are quite frowned upon.  Naturally so is self-harm.  I believe self-harm is a 'taboo' subject, not because of the fact that it's morbid, but rather because it mostly comes from a deeply rooted mental health issue.  Am I proud that I'm a cutter?  No, I'm not.  However, I am proud that I'm a RECOVERING cutter.  So in a way, I'm proud of scars.  I'm proud that they are scars, not scabs.

Society will tell you to hide your imperfections.  "No one wants to know about that," "That's waaaaaay too personal", "That topic makes me feel uncomfortable".  Good!  We need a little more uncomfortable.  Why should I hide something that is a part of me because it makes you uncomfortable?  Are you more important than me?  Is your discomfort more important than my own ability to feel comfortable in my own skin?  No, it's not.

This is me.  I'm not perfect by your standards, I'm perfect by my own.  That includes my plus-sized body.  That includes my frizzy hair.  That includes the patches of small white scars that adorn my thighs.  I'm not "wrong" because I did something "taboo", I'm unique.

The last thing I want to share is a quote I saw and absolutely fell in love with: "Never be ashamed of a scar, it just shows that you were stronger than something that tried to hurt you.".  I love that!  Notice it doesn't say, "Never be ashamed of an accidental scar" or "Never be ashamed of a scar, unless you caused it,".  That's because scars show the things we conquered, and sometimes, the thing that needed to be conquered was inside our very being.   

Questions

So I'm a little more then a month into my year of prudeness, and most people have questions.  So I'm going to take the time to answer some of the most common questions I get.  The biggest question tends to be, "Aren't you afraid you're going to lose your soul-mate while you're staying single?".

To be totally honest, that's part of why I put of this year commitment for so long.  I mean what if I did meet Mr. Right two months into the year?  Then what?  I circled around this issue for a long time, then I realized something.  Though it was more of a "Ummm hello idiot!" moment.  The guy that God designed for me, the guy I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with, isn't going to give a lick that I'm not available for a while.  I firmly believe that he will understand my reasons behind this commitment, but more then that he will support me.  Not to mention, if he is Mr. Right and we're supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, a year isn't going to matter.  In the grand scheme of things, a one year (less then that now actually) as friends isn't a bad thing.  The way I see it, if he decides that I'm not worth the wait, or that what I'm doing is stupid, then great.  That means that I just saved myself a whole ton of heartache.  I spared myself a relationship, the relationship falling apart, the break-up, the post break-up awkwardness, everything.  So I'm not too worried about it anymore.

Another question I tend to get is, "Is it hard to stay single?" and the truth is not as hard as I would've thought.  Granted it's only been a little over a month, and it's not like guys are throwing themselves at me, but it's really not.  It's also kind of nice because now I don't have to get "dolled up" to go out.  I mean I didn't do that too often before this commitment, but I'm realizing how often I'd worry about how guys were viewing me, but moreso what they were thinking of me.  I'm realizing how often I was searching to make a good impression, wondering who Mr. Right might be.  I don't do that anymore.  I've been able to stop looking at guys and evaluating their qualities, judging if I'd want or be able to make a life with them.  Just to clarify, I'm not saying I meet a guy and am like 'wow! you're amazing, I'd love to marry you right now'! definitely not, that's creepy.  However when I get to know someone better I wonder, just like most girls wonder about their future weddings or whatever, I wonder who will be at the other end of the alter.

It's been a pretty good month and I'm excited to see what the next 11 months hold :)

"I Have To Do This, Otherwise..."

So often I find myself caught up in this mindset that I have to do, do, do, or something bad will happen.  If I don't get all A's in college, no one will take me seriously.  If I don't prove that I'm worth something, no one will ever see me.  So many things that float around in my head that I have to do, otherwise...  It took me a while to realize just how far this extends in my life.

I was doing my nightly quiet time with God, and all of the sudden something just clicked.  I'm still not sure what happened, what triggered it, but all of the sudden it was like a bunch on bolts fell into place and things started making so much more sense.  I know I was trying to not think about all the things I still "had" to do before bed, when all of the sudden I found myself wondering who I was trying to impress?  What did any of the stuff I needed to do matter?  That just kind of blew a breeze across the sparks already flying.  The next hour was just a whirlwind of revelations and I got it.  I think for maybe the first time I understood what God's love really meant.  To me God's love has always kind of been something that was real, but not exactly tangible, just a far off kind of love, a long-distance relationship.  However, last night I realized just how close and personal it was.

I found myself thinking that God loved me enough to send His son to die for me, but more then that, He sent His son to die for ME.  If I had been the only person on the planet, God still would've sent His son to save me.  Even though I would've been the one driving nails into His precious son, He would've loved me enough to give me that chance at eternal life.  That was pretty mind boggling!  However it goes further then that.  Not only does God love me that much, He loves me enough to know everything about me.  He knows that my favorite color is blue, that I love country music, that I go to college, that I want to teach.  He knows that, but even more then that, He wants to know that.  I'm not just a number in a catalog, a model of a product if you will, that He keeps for His records, but to Him I'm a person.  I'm a person He cares enough about that no matter what He's doing, whenever I call on Him, He's there to listen.  Think of how much love that is!  I've personally never met anyone who was willing to drop everything to listen to me every minute of everyday.  I mean it's such a wonderful thing that it's so hard to get my head around, and amazing doesn't even begin to cover it!

Then I realized something else.  I don't have to prove or earn anything.  So what if I don't get all A's?  So what if I don't get a high dollar job, so what?  I have a relationship with the God that created the universe.  What even comes close to comparing to that?  Absolutely nothing!

Never Will I Ever (Settle)

So a while back I went to a party and we played "Never Have I Ever".  Basically everyone sits in a circle and puts up ten fingers.  Going around the circle, someone says something they've done (such as, never have I ever failed a class), then everyone who has done it has to put a finger down.  The person that still has fingers up when everyone else's is down wins.  Then a few days later I was talking to a some girlfriends and we were discussing some concepts we'd like in our future husband.  Below are the top 10 characteristics I've chosen, if a potential guy doesn't add up, he's probably not the one for me!  

So Never Will I Ever Settle For:
1. A man who is not a Christian or who is unwilling to take up his rightful place as the spiritual leader of our family- The bible says it's the father of the household's job to guide his wife and children, and I'm more then happy to let him lead (within reason of course).
2. A man who makes no effort to understand my perspective- I'm not saying that he has to agree with everything I do, I doubt he will, however, he needs to at least be able to see where I'm coming from.  This of course goes both ways.  Which means he needs to take the time to look through my eyes (whether he thinks I'm totally wrong or not).
3. A man who doesn't love me for exactly who I am- I know that we all have characteristics that annoy other people, but my future husband needs to be able accept the bad with the good.  Basically I don't want him saying something like, "Well I love you, but well... that six-year-old attitude you sometimes get needs to go!". It doesn't seem right to try and change the person you "love", if you loved them why do they need to change? I'm sure we'll get in disagreements about annoying things we do and that's ok.  So as at the end of the day, he still loves me.
4. A man who smokes and/or drinks excessively- I've lived in those kinds of households and have no intention of doing so again, or putting anyone else in that kind of situation, whether it be kids or pets.
5. A man who has more than 2 previous sexual partners- Sex is something that was designed to be a part of marriage.  Sex shouldn't exist outside of the context of marriage.  Sadly, that's highly prevalent in our society.  However the way I see it, I've kept myself pure for him, he should be doing the same for me.
6. A man who has little to no respect for his parents, especially his mother- The bible says we are to honor parents, and I'm not saying he isn't allowed to get in a fight with his, that's natural.  I fight with my parental unit as well, it's part of life.  I'm talking about the guy who consistently puts his mother down, doesn't respect either parent, walks all over them, that kind of thing.  This is mainly because studies have shown that men who have little respect for their mothers have little respect for their wives.  I've also seen this in action and it's not pretty.
7. A man with no sense of humor- I may not be an overly funny person, but I love to laugh.  I love doing silly things to get other people to smile, and I want a guy who does that too.  Someone who doesn't mind taking a silly picture, just because.  Or who puts on a hula skirt and pretends to dance just for a laugh.  We all need humor in our lives.
8. A man who values money over family and love- To those of you that know me, I'm not really a materialistic person.  Would having a lot of money be nice?  Probably.  Is it something I really care about?  Not at all.  I'm the kind of person who can window shop for hours just looking at all the pretty things, and never buy anything, because I'd never use it.  I don't want a man who's so obsessed with money that he's willing to work crazy hours, or whatnot to get it, it's not worth it, and God will provide what we need.
9. A man who isn't at home at least 5-6 nights a week- Obviously this wouldn't apply if he was going on a business trip or something, I'm talking more about he is consistently home 5-6 nights a week.  I've seen marriages go sour because one spouse is working days, the other nights, and then they never see each other.  Or marriages that fall apart because one spouse is never home.  Now I'm a trucker's daughter.  I've seen marriages that work, even when he's on the road weeks at a time.  However I'm not strong enough to live that way.  I'm not strong enough to call my husband every night and see him maybe twice a month.  I need someone to be there, and it's hard on kids too.  It's hard to ask when daddy's going to be home, and get an I don't know in response.  I wouldn't wish that on any kid.  I believe marriages are meant to be spent together.
10. A man who doesn't understand balance- This is my most encompassing characteristic.  I've included every type of balance in here.  The balance between love/money, funny/serious, early/late, together/separate, and so on.  Obviously some are more important, such as the balance between funny/serious, because it's hard to keep a relationship healthy when you're trying to discuss something serious and the other person won't be serious.  Then there's the less serious ones like early/late (to appointments and meetings, etc.).  However, life requires balance.  There's a time for relaxing and a time for doing, and I need someone to balance with me.  So no "hover-spouse" who can't do his own thing every once in a while, no "that's woman's work" spouse who expects a perfect little housewife, and no always somber spouse either.  Got to be able to find a balance.

So there you have it.  The 10 things I will never settle for.  What are the 10 things you'd never settle for?  Why?

"I have to love you, but I don't have to like you"

How many times have you heard that saying or used it yourself?  The message is the always the same it's just saying that just because you love someone and always have that bond, doesn't mean that you always have to like them.  I wonder how many times we assume that God has that attitude.

I personally find myself avoiding God when I've slipped up and let Him down.  "God loves me, but God really doesn't like me right now, so I'm going to just avoid Him for a while.  Just until I can counter-act the bad thing with several good things, then He'll like me again".  It wasn't until recently I realized just how wrong that perception is.  A while back my youngest brother and I got into a slight, okay a big, disagreement.  He'd been asked to pick something up, but instead threw a temper tantrum and thrown things all over my kitchen.  I was at my rope's end and standing there (with a wooden spoon covered spaghetti sauce in my hand) watching him destroy my nice clean kitchen was too much.  I spent him to his room to re-evaluate his actions.  As I turn back to the dinner on the stove, I thought, "I have to love you little boy, but I don't have to like you"!  Even as I thought it, I realized how untrue that was.  I still loved my brother, I still liked him, I just hated his actions.  That got me thinking, "Maybe God never really dislikes me as a person, maybe He just dislikes my actions".  That was a mind-blowing thing for me.  To realize that God never ever ever ever EVER dislikes me, He dislikes the things I do that don't honor Him.  Meaning God's probably never looked at me, sighed, and said, "Well Brianna, I have to love you, you are my daughter I guess, but goodness child pull it together and stop being dumb".

Can you imagine how much grace that is?  To look at someone who consistently making mistakes and continue loving them, and liking them just as much as you did before, even if it means that you have to fix some of their messes.  For example, say that you absolutely adore your senile mother.  She comes to visit and tries to help you out.  In the process she smashes your best china, bleaches your blue towels (which of course match your blue bathroom), microwaves a spoon and ruins the microwave, and scrubs the paint off your walls trying to clean up a spot that's really a shadow.  Unless you are an absolute saint, you're going to be on edge waiting for your mother to leave.  However, that's not how God sees us!  God is the one smiling holding a glue gun for the china, the blue dye for the towels with an "It's going to be alright hug", a shrug and a "I never use the microwave anyway", and a bunch of paintbrushes to repaint the wall.  He's not thrilled about the work He's going to have to put in to fix the mistakes, He's focused on how much He loves us, and how desperately He wants us to realize us how so very precious we are.  It's really kind of mind blowing when you think about it, and it's totally awesome!