Esther McCarthy: 'I spend hours dropping kids to sports — but have no time for my yoga class'

Esther McCarthy. Picture: Emily Quinn

I am now fatter than I’ve ever been.

I won’t say bigger because on baby number two I was immense. I couldn’t go near a beach in case someone tried to harpoon me. My three-year-old and I used to watch Dora while we were waiting for this next kid to finish up with the business of the womb. “She couldn’t explore me,” I’d tell him sadly and I’d hoist myself up with a special stick. 

They kept trying to test me for gestational diabetes. I didn't mind. It involved drinking loads of Lucozade and putting up with little pricks. I felt 15 again. No diabetes, he was just a big baby.

Like, Thor’s hammer was easier to lift. You get it, I was big.

But I’m heavier now. How did that happen? I don’t have a complicated relationship with food or anything, we love each other unconditionally.

Could it be that I eat way more than I should, and I sit on my arse for a large portion of the day? Thanks, JOB.

I always thought vanity would keep me in check, I’m very shallow, but I think I have the type of body dysmorphia that manifests itself by me looking in the mirror and thinking I’m the bomb, when in reality I’m the shape of one.

I remember when we were minding my grandmother/mam when she was sick, she couldn’t eat. She was only in her 60s, and it was heartbreaking to see her struggle with her food. She was always a good grubber, as she’d say, a size eight all her life and she’d eat all around her. Food was rationed when she was growing up, she made us all appreciate the bounty of having a Quinnsworth up the road.

But when she was sick, she’d make me count out her cornflakes because she couldn’t manage more than ten. She had these special yogurty drinks to try to help put on some weight.

“They’re fucking vile,” she’d wince, sipping one, making it last hours. She couldn’t bear food, it lost all joy for her. I got a tiny glimmer of what it must have been like when I got morning sickness on another pregnancy. Morning, me hole. Morning, noon and night sickness more like, I couldn’t face food, only dry crackers and ginger tea. I was great craic for those months, you can imagine. And us fatties are supposed to be funny — it wasn’t good for the brand.

I made a conscious decision not to diet before my wedding, I didn’t want to feel like I was succumbing to silly societal expectations. I remember a friend who was getting married around the same time telling me she was on the famine diet. I backed slowly away, apologised in my head to the generations that went before us, went home and had a cheesy baked potato in a silent, delicious protest.

When I was 23, I went and fell off a 120-foot cliff in Australia. I was around a size 10/12 then, but I do believe the padding on my arse saved me somewhat. I landed on a rock from a free fall and then plopped into the water, I couldn’t move from the neck down, so then I nearly drowned. That was a Saturday and a half. I put on weight during the recovery because, you know, I was in a wheelchair, and celebrating cheating death with meat pies and shawarmas for breakfast.

Let’s just say I’ve never been a size 10 again. And I know the size of your jeans doesn’t define who you are and I LOVE my amazing body that’s survived so much and you know, CREATED LIFE THREE TIMES, but now it feels like I’m getting to stage where it’s self-care to consciously lose some stonage. For my health (hello, high cholesterol) and my lifestyle.

I spend hours dropping and collecting the kids to sports — yet I feel I don’t have the time to do the yoga class I used to love. What kind of bullshit is that? I want to be able to play basketball with my boys for more than ten minutes without having a Youtube video paused on my phone so they’ll know how to resuscitate me.

More importantly, I want to be able to beat their bony asses. So my plan is groundbreaking — are you ready? I’m going to eat less and exercise more! Ta daa!! The other crucial element of my plan is I’m sending a picture of the scales to a friend every Wednesday morning and there’s money involved if it ain’t down after four weeks. My wallet can’t afford any weight loss so it’s a good motivator.