Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Aha, I remembered

What I meant to write last night...things you should never do and/or say to a pregnant woman. Mine eyes hath been opened and mea culpa if I have done any of these to anyone else. Bless them for smiling and pretending like nothing was wrong.

-Never touch a preggie belly, especially a stranger's, unless you have permission to do so. Creepy. It's still my body. I wouldn't want you touching it if I wasn't pregnant, so why would it be okay now? My personal space bubble still surrounds me. Darn kids at school think that I don't mind. It's almost creepier when teenagers do it. What's their deal?

-Never make jokes about a pregger's size. I know I'm the size I am. It's not exactly funny to have skinny people laugh about it. Let me make fun of myself by myself. Men are especially good at this. This is just another clue that they are often inferior in mental quality and capacity. Think about it boys--do girls like to be laughed at about their size?

-Never assume that it's twins. This rather goes along with the last rule. And quit the joking that it will be twins. Again, this is always a guy thing. Seriously, what are you possibly thinking, boys?

-I don't need to hear all of your pregnancy stories unless I ask. Really. This one is generally aimed at older ladies who are for some reason feeling the need to re-live their own pregnancies vicariously through mine. But then again, it's way worse and creepier when my (male) principal decides to tell me all about his wife's very personal problems with her pregnancies. He's definitely lacking some serious ability to filter information.

-Advice is great and fine in context. Random advice gets old and preachy.

-It's great that you care, but you really don't need to ask how I'm feeling (which is inherently different than the proverbial question, "Hey, how are you?" that everyone asks everyone and really means nothing) every day / every time you see me. I think this is more of a personal pet peeve; like I'm going to go into detail about my itchy skin and nose bleeds with random work colleagues.

-Really, no need to help with names unless we're talking about it (again...it's the whole context issue). We're good. And, my fetus doens't need another nickname. When you have a parasite attached to you, sucking up your nutrients, preventing you from sleeping well, and causing you to avoid the smelly grocery stores like the plague, then you really have earned the right to nickname it whatever you so desire and all will be fine.

This sounds like I've been harboring a lot of irritation. I even sound a bit maniacal. Maybe my next post will be something a bit more lighthearted--evolution of a mouse (really, I will post about this someday) or private/public schools: pros & cons. Suggestions?

2 comments:

starpilgrim said...

so what is its nickname? I don't want to invent another one, but it is fun to know what to call it...
Funny post, by the way. =)

The Erudite Lit-ite said...

hehe...Omar