(From Baby-Gaga.)
Showing posts with label crazy things people say. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy things people say. Show all posts
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Week 26: Catching Up
Well, here we are at almost week 27 and I'm only now getting my week 26 post up. Couple of things of note that happened during this otherwise unremarkable week. First, I nearly got into a fight with a woman for a chair at a political rally; second, I had a bona fide baby scare that lasted exactly 20 seconds.
On Thursday, I went to see President Obama speak at a rally for the democratic gubernatorial candidate. By virtue of my journalistic-oriented employment, I'm not really able to talk openly about my political positions, whom I want to vote for, or anything like that and at times it really chafes me, because I'm an ardent gay-rights supporter and a bizarre mix of pro-life-but-anti-abortion-criminalization. I can say that here because I'm semi-anonymous. Whee! Anyhow. I was at this rally, and about the time that our current governor got up to speak, the room started spinning for me. I don't handle crowds well even when I'm not pregnant, so this wasn't completely unexpected, but what did throw me for a loop was the behavior of the woman whose seat I politely asked for, since she wasn't sitting in it.
There were very few seats in the venue, actually. Other people around me could see that I was in some distress, and some were actively trying to help me into the chair. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I'm six months pregnant, and I just need to sit down for a few minutes."
Her retort was scathing. "Well, I have cancer!" she said, indignantly. "Only for a minute!" She grabbed her purse and her shoes, since apparently I looked like I wanted to make off with them. She was wearing evening attire; I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. But the women behind me shot her withering looks, one in particular handing me an ice-filled glass to hold to my face. I felt flushed and hot, but according to my helpers, I was pale. As she continued to glare at me, I said, "I'm sorry to hear that. We're all in this together, right?"
She stomped off in a huff; I was amused later when Obama came to the podium and actually said, outright, "We're all in this together." Which is true. I'm a political moderate and really hate partisanism. Anyways, I enjoyed Obama's speech even if there was a lot of rhetoric in it that felt like it was catered to the "base." It was humbling for me to sit in the same room as a sitting president. The closest I came to him was about 15 feet, when he was out in the crowd after his remarks, but I just wasn't feeling aggressive enough in the crowd to try to meet him. And as I moved through that crowd, I found out why evening-gown lady was so intent on holding on to her chair even though she wasn't sitting on it: I saw her standing atop another chair, cheering and waving her flag as though to music.
The other thing that happened this week--and it happened last night, actually--was that I was sitting in my den catching up on Burn Notice episodes and working on a cross-stitch project for the nursery when it occured to me I hadn't felt the baby move in several hours. I freaked out, on the spot, trying to remember when he'd moved last, thinking I needed to start tracking these things. Then I took a deep breath, focused inward, put my hand on my belly, and asked aloud: "Everything ok in there?"
Bunky thwapped me so hard you would have thought he was reading a book and didn't appreciate my interrupting him.
This morning he's back to his usual squirmy self but I imagine he is starting to settle into sleep/wake patterns right on schedule. I just need to get used to when they are, and hope that a nice, uninterrupted jag of sleepytime becomes his norm and stays that way after he's born.
On Thursday, I went to see President Obama speak at a rally for the democratic gubernatorial candidate. By virtue of my journalistic-oriented employment, I'm not really able to talk openly about my political positions, whom I want to vote for, or anything like that and at times it really chafes me, because I'm an ardent gay-rights supporter and a bizarre mix of pro-life-but-anti-abortion-criminalization. I can say that here because I'm semi-anonymous. Whee! Anyhow. I was at this rally, and about the time that our current governor got up to speak, the room started spinning for me. I don't handle crowds well even when I'm not pregnant, so this wasn't completely unexpected, but what did throw me for a loop was the behavior of the woman whose seat I politely asked for, since she wasn't sitting in it.
There were very few seats in the venue, actually. Other people around me could see that I was in some distress, and some were actively trying to help me into the chair. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I'm six months pregnant, and I just need to sit down for a few minutes."
Her retort was scathing. "Well, I have cancer!" she said, indignantly. "Only for a minute!" She grabbed her purse and her shoes, since apparently I looked like I wanted to make off with them. She was wearing evening attire; I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. But the women behind me shot her withering looks, one in particular handing me an ice-filled glass to hold to my face. I felt flushed and hot, but according to my helpers, I was pale. As she continued to glare at me, I said, "I'm sorry to hear that. We're all in this together, right?"
She stomped off in a huff; I was amused later when Obama came to the podium and actually said, outright, "We're all in this together." Which is true. I'm a political moderate and really hate partisanism. Anyways, I enjoyed Obama's speech even if there was a lot of rhetoric in it that felt like it was catered to the "base." It was humbling for me to sit in the same room as a sitting president. The closest I came to him was about 15 feet, when he was out in the crowd after his remarks, but I just wasn't feeling aggressive enough in the crowd to try to meet him. And as I moved through that crowd, I found out why evening-gown lady was so intent on holding on to her chair even though she wasn't sitting on it: I saw her standing atop another chair, cheering and waving her flag as though to music.
The other thing that happened this week--and it happened last night, actually--was that I was sitting in my den catching up on Burn Notice episodes and working on a cross-stitch project for the nursery when it occured to me I hadn't felt the baby move in several hours. I freaked out, on the spot, trying to remember when he'd moved last, thinking I needed to start tracking these things. Then I took a deep breath, focused inward, put my hand on my belly, and asked aloud: "Everything ok in there?"
Bunky thwapped me so hard you would have thought he was reading a book and didn't appreciate my interrupting him.
This morning he's back to his usual squirmy self but I imagine he is starting to settle into sleep/wake patterns right on schedule. I just need to get used to when they are, and hope that a nice, uninterrupted jag of sleepytime becomes his norm and stays that way after he's born.
Friday, July 31, 2009
The Battle Royal
Historically, Dean has always been squicked out by pregnant women. One of the things I've struggled with is helping him get over that aversion when it comes to his own wife, but we've both been amused at how strange pregnancy can be on a body, especially when Bunky does things like distend my abdomen lopsidedly or send out a series of kicks and jabs that makes my whole stomach look like an alien is about to explode out of it. His response to this, and some of my descriptions of odd internal sensations, is always "gross." It's a private joke between us, but since Elder Son has moved back in, there's a lot less privacy in general. So as I was telling Dean I had a new idea for a blog tagline, the following exchange happened:
Me: "A teen, a tween, and a bean."
Dean: Gross.
Me: Damn, I was hoping for a "laf." Also, Elder Son has taken to saying "gross" any time I mention anything having to do with the baby. Be careful what you model. :)
Dean: chuckly chuckly chuckchuck chuck ------ Damn. [pause] Babies are gross, though ;)
Me: Great thing to teach his big brother. I'm calling him on it, and can't very well call him on it if you continue to do it around him, even joking.
Dean: Can I say "ew"?
Me: *facepalm
Monday, July 20, 2009
I'm Not Helpless!
I've been known to snap at people who say the wrong thing, like calling me Mommy or Mommy-to-be or being the 130th person in a day to ask me how I'm feeling. Today I snapped because I walked past a coworker as I was carrying a computer semi-tower to my office ... and as I walked back out she said, "You should have gotten someone to help you with that." I had to bite my tongue to not retort "Well, I didn't see you offer." She's an older lady and I'd hate to swap down something I find annoying with something she'd likely find offensive. But this is the same woman who, last week when I wore something that didn't make me look pregnant enough, asked me if there was something that I needed to tell her, implying that I had lost the baby. The same woman who doesn't seem to notice the way I wince when she--or ANYONE--calls me Mommy, because no one has called me that since my son was 9 and it's going to be many months before I hear it from this one. Others may find it cute, but I don't.
On the way home, I nearly cried over my inability to let go of the negative feelings I get from people treating me like I'm delicate, or sick, or as if my name isn't [realname] anymore. It's true, I move a lot more slowly because of how relaxin has affected my hips, but it hasn't disabled me. It's true, I had to sit through a lot of early morning meetings during the nausea phase where I'd be surreptitiously munching saltines and turning shade of green that more becomes a plant, but I'm just fine now, thanks. And yes, the baby's moving quite a bit. In fact, if you like, I can stand here as if I were a TV set and you can watch my tummy jiggle explosively as though it were a jiffy pop container--but please for the love of God, don't touch it.
I've tried patiently explaining to people that the fuss they make over me actually makes me self-conscious to the point of withdrawing. That's hard for them to fathom because they are so accustomed to me the extrovert. But I guess that along with other things that kind of go into hiding during pregnancy, so is my extroversion.
It's also been a hard day because the new, probably-not-improved introverted version of myself is difficult even for me to understand. Conversations that I used to really enjoy now seem disruptive, even totally pointless, and blundermouth would love to just come right out and SAY so. (The ones that were disruptive and/or pointless to begin with? Now I find myself chewing on my ankles to get free of that trap.)
But then, on top of all of it, getting home and finding that my son has done all of his chores and then some, and is apologizing for not having watered the plants outside because, well, it's like raining and stuff.
I needed that laugh. Kid, you're awesome, and you're going to make the bestest big brother in the whole world.
On the way home, I nearly cried over my inability to let go of the negative feelings I get from people treating me like I'm delicate, or sick, or as if my name isn't [realname] anymore. It's true, I move a lot more slowly because of how relaxin has affected my hips, but it hasn't disabled me. It's true, I had to sit through a lot of early morning meetings during the nausea phase where I'd be surreptitiously munching saltines and turning shade of green that more becomes a plant, but I'm just fine now, thanks. And yes, the baby's moving quite a bit. In fact, if you like, I can stand here as if I were a TV set and you can watch my tummy jiggle explosively as though it were a jiffy pop container--but please for the love of God, don't touch it.
I've tried patiently explaining to people that the fuss they make over me actually makes me self-conscious to the point of withdrawing. That's hard for them to fathom because they are so accustomed to me the extrovert. But I guess that along with other things that kind of go into hiding during pregnancy, so is my extroversion.
It's also been a hard day because the new, probably-not-improved introverted version of myself is difficult even for me to understand. Conversations that I used to really enjoy now seem disruptive, even totally pointless, and blundermouth would love to just come right out and SAY so. (The ones that were disruptive and/or pointless to begin with? Now I find myself chewing on my ankles to get free of that trap.)
But then, on top of all of it, getting home and finding that my son has done all of his chores and then some, and is apologizing for not having watered the plants outside because, well, it's like raining and stuff.
I needed that laugh. Kid, you're awesome, and you're going to make the bestest big brother in the whole world.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Hyperactive in the Womb! And Teenager Successes!
Bunky has been so active today that I'm not entirely sure he's rested at all. We got up at 6 a.m. and he was happily obliging his father with palpable kicks... that have continued all day. Even now, it's like popcorn going off in my belly. I can't get over it--I really don't remember my first son being this active, but... 17 years is a long time to remember much of anything I didn't write down. (Part of the reason I blog as much as I do.)
But a weird thing happened at work today. One of the co-workers from the other side of the building came round the corner and gasped when she saw me. "You look so skinny!" she exclaimed. "Is there something you need to tell us?"
Some days I show, some days I don't. I am just heavy-set-but-big-boned enough that I still just look plump in most clothes, but anything cut for maternity makes me look more maternal.
I just feel like a freak show, though. The attention I get kills me. I'm not sure what I expected (ha!) but it's been very difficult to enjoy this pregnancy
But on a totally different note, Elder Son made his debut today on the radio, at the college station at the university where I'm working on my master's. He came off the air absolutely beaming, and filled with enthusiasm for the medium. Since I spent 10 years as a journalist and 4 as a club DJ, I'm completely squee about the idea of him following in my footsteps, but on radio--but even more so after seeing him so full of joy. We finally have almost everything together to enroll him in the new high school, and I'm finally starting to feel optimistic that things are going to work out just fine.
If I could just get all the bills caught up...
But a weird thing happened at work today. One of the co-workers from the other side of the building came round the corner and gasped when she saw me. "You look so skinny!" she exclaimed. "Is there something you need to tell us?"
Some days I show, some days I don't. I am just heavy-set-but-big-boned enough that I still just look plump in most clothes, but anything cut for maternity makes me look more maternal.
I just feel like a freak show, though. The attention I get kills me. I'm not sure what I expected (ha!) but it's been very difficult to enjoy this pregnancy
But on a totally different note, Elder Son made his debut today on the radio, at the college station at the university where I'm working on my master's. He came off the air absolutely beaming, and filled with enthusiasm for the medium. Since I spent 10 years as a journalist and 4 as a club DJ, I'm completely squee about the idea of him following in my footsteps, but on radio--but even more so after seeing him so full of joy. We finally have almost everything together to enroll him in the new high school, and I'm finally starting to feel optimistic that things are going to work out just fine.
If I could just get all the bills caught up...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
