I'm not claiming to be rail thin here, but pregnant? Come on. This happens to me every year around the time of August, September, or October. I have the very personal and inappropriate question asking if I'm pregnant. I don't know what it is about the changing seasons that makes people socially inept to have the audacity to ask the question.
Two years ago I was sitting in the doctor's office waiting to get my blood drawn for my cholesterol check. A woman walked in and kept smiling and staring at me. I smiled back and she decided this was an open invitation to ask me when I was due. This marks a very critical point to a socially awkward question. I am really down to a couple of options and both of them will not flatter either one of us. For some reason I always choose the response of: "No, I guess I'm just fat." Laugh, laugh, laugh. I throw myself under the bus and hope that the other person doesn't feel uncomfortable.
What? Yes, ridiculous as it sounds, I somehow feel like I need to be the one who will take the beating to a new level. However, the other side to the coin is to tell the person that you are not pregnant and that it is rude to ask someone such a personal question. I'm not assertive enough to do the latter and find that when I'm blindsided by the question, the automatic response is to rag on myself, then fall into a pool of tears after leaving the conversation.
It happened again last year from a PTSO mom who thought that she was being very clever figuring out that I was pregnant. I still responded with the old no, I'm just fat, but the laugh was taken out of that response and I walked away with her calling, "No, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry!!!" Oh, I guess I wasn't sure what you meant by it, no, completely my fault.
But this fall has landed me a couple of doozies. The first was from a woman I used to work with at my old school. After a long meeting and sharing a table with this fellow teacher, I got up and gathered my things to leave. She immediately put her hand on my belly and very loudly exclaimed, "I didn't know you were pregnant!!" Again, my response came out, but this time I got angry. I told her she couldn't ask that to women and it is super rude. She responded with a hearty laugh and said that she knew that. I walked away with tears flowing out of my eyes and my colleagues watching my brisk exit. She knew that?! SHE KNEW THAT??!! No, I don't think that she did or she wouldn't have asked it! Grrrrr.
Today was the latest of my pregnancy rumors. In the parent loop at my elementary school, a parent of one of my former students was picking up her son. She called my name frantically as I put him in the back seat. "You're pregnant!" she exclaimed. No, I assured her. This was just a roll of fat, no baby was a brewing. "No, no! Look!" she pointed the roll of fat around my stomach, "You ARE pregnant!" Now this puts me in even more of an awkward position, she is a nice woman and I will see her everyday in the parent loop. However, I want to punch her or really give her a piece of my mind about keeping those comments to herself. I did the only thing I could do, "No, I'm just fat." Clenched teeth, chuckle, chuckle, chuckle. I turned away to a gaped mouth kindergarten teacher asking me if that just happened. Oh, yes. That was not a figment of your imagination. This is what I deal with--people with zero class and social cues.
I have pondered why I get so many pregnancy questions. My first thought is that I have a roll of fat around my middle that will be there until the day I die (just in case of famine). I also have an extraordinarily large chest, which I keep under tight wraps. These are signs of early pregnancy, perhaps, but I don't think my shape is any more unusual than the average woman. I've also thought that people ask me because I'm newly married and in the city where I work, the women have babies at the age of 16. I'm a very late bloomer according to their timeline. A very kind friend told me I have a natural glow that some may mistake as a pregnancy glow. I think it's just Eye Bright from Benefit I use religiously.
I feel for these celebs dealing with paparazzi accusations of baby rumors. How many of us have pictures where we are in an unflattering pose? Sometimes I have a big dinner and my stomach is feeling bloated, sorry no baby. I am a huge fan of the gossip magazines, but I think it's given some sort of permission for people to make accusations (as I'll so gently put it) about the personal and private things going on in others' lives. I admit that I have my doubts about Eva Longoria, but I know what she's going through, on a much smaller scale of course, if she really isn't preggers.
So here's my rule of thumb to asking about pregnancy, as many of you know: Only ask a woman if she's pregnant when a baby's head is crowning out of a vagina.
That's all. Pretty simple. Keep it forever and use it.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Out to Send the Very Best
Do you ever feel like in your job someone is going to knock on your door or cubicle wall to gently escort you to your car? They might let you know that it would be wise not to return to work in the morning because you've been found out. They realize you have no idea what you are doing and are basically wasting their money and time.
I felt that way often in my first years of teaching. There were times after looking at test scores or class work that tears where brimming on my eyes. Did they really not understand this? What more should I have done? Could I have stayed later and put together a 3-act play to show what a possessive pronoun looks like? Would creating a 10-part group project make a difference? Someone is going to find out that I just taught what was in the book because I couldn't think of another brilliant way to teach it.
I could truly live at my job. I could stay there all day and night and still find things that I need to do to be absolutely ready for the next day or upcoming week. I should really have my lesson plans all ready for next week, but I don't. I should really have all my copies ready for morning work for the next two weeks, but I don't. I should have all my reading centers sorted out to the exact time frame I need for completion, but I don't. Is someone going to find out that I don't have these things finished? And if so, what will they do--gently escort me out?
These are things that loom over my head at night, mostly on my Sunday nights. On Sunday nights I try to go to bed early. I lay in my bed and read, and read, and read, until finally my husband says I need to go into the living room to read. The clock that once said 9:16 now reads 12:07. Did I just read for 3 hours and not get tired? I try laying back down in bed, I close my eyes and visions of Monday dance through my head. I think about my lesson plans I need to finish, I think about those copies I need to make (and change my clock for 15 minutes earlier so I can get to the copy machine early), and I think about the centers that need to be organized. It puts me in a panic mode with a nervous stomach and I go back out to the living room and read until I FINALLY fall asleep.
Just recently, my mom sent me a link. She said to type in spastic colon Sunday + Hallmark into the Google search engine. I died. You need to do it, too. Please turn on your speakers quietly. Hallmark has a greeting card for everything including the nervous stomach, panicky, Sunday night blues.
I felt that way often in my first years of teaching. There were times after looking at test scores or class work that tears where brimming on my eyes. Did they really not understand this? What more should I have done? Could I have stayed later and put together a 3-act play to show what a possessive pronoun looks like? Would creating a 10-part group project make a difference? Someone is going to find out that I just taught what was in the book because I couldn't think of another brilliant way to teach it.
I could truly live at my job. I could stay there all day and night and still find things that I need to do to be absolutely ready for the next day or upcoming week. I should really have my lesson plans all ready for next week, but I don't. I should really have all my copies ready for morning work for the next two weeks, but I don't. I should have all my reading centers sorted out to the exact time frame I need for completion, but I don't. Is someone going to find out that I don't have these things finished? And if so, what will they do--gently escort me out?
These are things that loom over my head at night, mostly on my Sunday nights. On Sunday nights I try to go to bed early. I lay in my bed and read, and read, and read, until finally my husband says I need to go into the living room to read. The clock that once said 9:16 now reads 12:07. Did I just read for 3 hours and not get tired? I try laying back down in bed, I close my eyes and visions of Monday dance through my head. I think about my lesson plans I need to finish, I think about those copies I need to make (and change my clock for 15 minutes earlier so I can get to the copy machine early), and I think about the centers that need to be organized. It puts me in a panic mode with a nervous stomach and I go back out to the living room and read until I FINALLY fall asleep.
Just recently, my mom sent me a link. She said to type in spastic colon Sunday + Hallmark into the Google search engine. I died. You need to do it, too. Please turn on your speakers quietly. Hallmark has a greeting card for everything including the nervous stomach, panicky, Sunday night blues.
A Little Piece of Heaven in my Pocket
Day 9. Yes, day 9 of the rest of my life. I have officially shown the door to a huge part of my life. I really thought that this break-up would make me sad, but I've been getting on pretty well. It's not my husband with the break-up in question. I have officially said good-bye to sweets and treats. Even the low-fat, no carb, Splenda sugar treats. They have done me wrong more than once leaving me still hungry and hugely depressed after our sick binge sessions together.
Last Sunday, after two days of eating like crap (I won't sugar coat it), I was feeling bloated, icky, and terribly guilty. I sang my little song to myself and danced my little dance about how I already knew the outcome and I went and did it anyway. I cried to my mom and she said, well just stop eating it! Huh! Yeah, if it was that easy, don't you think I would have done it by now?
No, she said. You have a very bad and addictive relationship with sweets and snacks. Treat it like any addiction and don't eat any of it ever! Give it a try for 3 weeks and maybe that will help break some of those bad habits. You may not ever miss them.
I agreed and starting from that point at 8:30 pm on September 7th, 2008, I have not eaten sweets or treats. Surprisingly, things are going well. I even had a potluck at school filled with very tasty comfort food including many things on my "no" list and I opted for the healthy chili, fruit, and veggies. Pat on the back for myself.
Nutritionists everywhere would be gasping...you can eat anything as long as it's in moderation. No, it will truly not work for me.
So here I'm sitting after leaving the lunchroom. A sweet little girl placed a tiny yellow Starburst in my hand. I said I would put it away in my pocket and have it as a treat after lunch. One little Starburst. It's quite a predicament to be in. I put it in the hand of a colleague and have been thinking about it ever since.
Last Sunday, after two days of eating like crap (I won't sugar coat it), I was feeling bloated, icky, and terribly guilty. I sang my little song to myself and danced my little dance about how I already knew the outcome and I went and did it anyway. I cried to my mom and she said, well just stop eating it! Huh! Yeah, if it was that easy, don't you think I would have done it by now?
No, she said. You have a very bad and addictive relationship with sweets and snacks. Treat it like any addiction and don't eat any of it ever! Give it a try for 3 weeks and maybe that will help break some of those bad habits. You may not ever miss them.
I agreed and starting from that point at 8:30 pm on September 7th, 2008, I have not eaten sweets or treats. Surprisingly, things are going well. I even had a potluck at school filled with very tasty comfort food including many things on my "no" list and I opted for the healthy chili, fruit, and veggies. Pat on the back for myself.
Nutritionists everywhere would be gasping...you can eat anything as long as it's in moderation. No, it will truly not work for me.
So here I'm sitting after leaving the lunchroom. A sweet little girl placed a tiny yellow Starburst in my hand. I said I would put it away in my pocket and have it as a treat after lunch. One little Starburst. It's quite a predicament to be in. I put it in the hand of a colleague and have been thinking about it ever since.
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