There are a lot of insensitive assholes out there and, believe it or not, many of these assholes are women.
Okay, now let's begin.....
To celebrate my son Drew's first day of Kindergarten, we decided to go to a new restaurant last night. I was excited because it meant no cooking, and that is always a plus in my eyes.
While at dinner, Drew felt the need to go potty three times, mainly to see the urinals. Apparently they were very exciting because they extended down to the ground. Apparently, for a four year old, this is awesome. Actually, it must just be a guy thing, because Mr. Bee seemed pretty psyched about it as well. I can't muster such enthusiasm for bathrooms, but I am glad the little things in life make them so happy. Anyway, the third time he wanted to go, we told him he had to go with me to the bathroom. He agreed.
As we were washing his hands in the bathroom, I heard a voice say my name. It was an acquaintance of my Mom's, not one of my favorites. Great, I thought.
"Hi!" I say with fake enthusiasm.
"Your son is beautiful!" She says. "Is your Mom here?"
Like I travel with my Mom all of the time.
"No, I'm here with my husband." Duh.
Drew looks at her and says "I'm Drew ____." Maybe we need to teach him about talking to strangers?
She introduces herself to him, asks his age, and then looks at me with a straight face and says...
"When are you due?"
Let me tell you- this has happened to me before. I am skinny legs and arms, all belly and boobs. Ever since I had kids, I am even more belly and boobs. When I worked at a Children's clothing shop, I was asked this quite a bit. Someone even asked me if I knew what I was having- when I wasn't pregnant. Like I was 5 months along and knew the sex of the imaginary fat-baby. Mortifying. Terrible. Yet, it hadn't happened to me in 3 years. Still, I know, you are mortified for me, right? You are. Well, believe it or not, it only gets worse from here.
"I'm not pregnant." I look at her blankly. What I should have said was "I am fat, not pregnant, thanks for pointing it out."
"Oh, you've still got your belly," she says, and touches my stomach.
It was all I could do not to slap this woman. When in the hell is it okay to touch another person's body and comment that it is large? I am already self conscious enough about my body already. I don't need someone I barely know poking at my problem areas. How does she not know, as a woman, that this act is invading my personal space and making me uncomfortable?
Okay, it's not over yet- it gets worse.
Drew, suddenly Mr. Chatterbox with this horrible woman (and no one else), says "We have a baby, his name is Jacob."
A look of understanding goes across her eyes. "Oh, you just had a baby! I see."
"No," I say. You don't see, if you could see, you would see how uncomfortable you are making me. "My other son, Jacob, is two." I can feel my face reddening now.
"Oh, well he's still young." I recognize at this point that she has no social graces and has no idea what she has done.
"Um, okay," I say, probably visibly perturbed at this point. Drew (and the woman) don't notice and he keeps chattering on.
"I have a Daddy, and a Nana and a Papa and I go to school and...."
"Nice to see you." She says. "Tell your Mom I said hi."
"Okay," I stretch my mouth wide enough to maybe be considered a smile. Obviously it is not.
Seriously, why do people think that it is okay to comment on a woman's shape? If a man has a little belly, no one notices or cares, it's seen as normal, but because I am not in swimsuit shape after having two children and working full time, we must discuss it? It's not like I said to her, oh when is the face lift? Oh my, you are still ugly, and then touched her face (I could have, she is not attractive). I would never comment on someone's imperfections like that.
The sad part about this is that most men know not to ask about a woman's pregnancy or comment on her body, yet women do this to each other all of the time.
When I called my Mom to complain, she laughed about it, and said that I knew she had no tact. Yes, but it still is not a laughing matter that people think I look pregnant, that I am not pregnant, and yet I still have this gut that no amount of dieting or exercising seems to want to diminish. I shouldn't have to feel this way, and for God's sake, I shouldn't have to worry about people asking me if I am pregnant.
I am so depressed. Well, disheartened is more like it. I am feeling so worn down by all of it, life, work, family, and this was the last thing I needed to be worried about.
So last night I let Jillian Michaels kick my ass for an hour. My diet starts today, and I just bought a yummie tummie tank top that I was eyeing yesterday. I got my answer last night on if the exorbitant price is worth it; it is.
So, , for future reference-
This is what I look like when I am pregnant.
Please pass this along to your friends.