This is a blurry, awkwardly cropped, unflattering picture of me taken by my elder daughter last week. (Relevance to follow, but in the meantime I'll note that I was very proud of Ellie for looking at the camera display to frame the shot.) "Your daughter is adorable," an elderly man turned to me at dinner, after chatting with Ada. I stood to clear our plates as he continued talking. "And she's going to have a little brother or sister."
"Thank you, and, no, that's just me."
Seriously. I get this all the time. I used to think it was because of my affection for over-size clothes, but on this particular occasion, I was wearing a stretchy twin-set, cut relatively close to the body. So it must just be . . . me. The fact that all my pants are a size or two too big and give me extra pouchiness where I don't need it doesn't help. But I'm hardly headed for the delivery room, regardless. The picture above was taken after dinner that same evening. What do you think? Am I accidentally in maternity wear?
Next week is Ada's last mommy and me dance class, which means only one more session of me allowing the instructor to think that I'm pregnant. She never asked outright so that I can deny it, she just makes little comments, like, "This exercise is important for you mommies, especially you down there in that pink shirt looking absolutely adorable today."
It took me a couple lessons to realize that she thinks I'm expecting. And by that time there was no way to fix the problem without embarrassing everyone.
I'm thinking maybe I should just drag out my maternity clothes and pretend to be pregnant all the time. Heck, I'll be comfy and avoid some awkward conversations. Where's the downside?
6 comments:
You need props, Sarahlynn. Start carrying around a hip flask and a pack of cigarettes.
And then start polishing your delivery of a modified Churchill line, about how your belly might not always be big but sadly, your interlocutor is likely to remain obtuse all his/her days.
Orange, I actually bought myself a notebook that says, "NOT PREGNANT. Just fat." on it. I'm a writer, right? I need to carry a notebook. But . . . apparently it doesn't speak as loudly as my physique.
SOL (snort out loud because it's hard to snort silently) about the interlocutor line. I'm ignorant about the original Churchill quote, though.
I like the idea of carrying a pack of smokes. People will HAVE to question you and you can address things! :o)
I had to squelch rumors at church because a snafu. Was talking with a friends mom who goes to the church as well about her hubby and I being extroverts and she and Anny being the opposite. I said something like "yeah, Anny would not let me tell people the we were expecting for three months, so I started an anonymous blog!" Yup, in the exit-greeting line. Her "YOU'RE EXPECTING!" carried even further.
Yikes.
Nope. Just nope.
Happy dancing! I want to do a dance class with Abby one of these days!
You should do the next session of the class Ada's in! Then the instructor would have to stop some of her gender-specific comments. (It's not technically a "mommy and me" class, it just works out that way.) We had a dad come with his daughters one week. And Miss Theresa got Jim to join us for our workout the week they were here. :-)
Honestly? I have NEVER been in your presence and thought you looked like you *might* be pregnant - - and I don't think it has anything to do with me knowing better...
A friend of mine - a rather petite girl - from high school had her first child shortly after we graduated and, while the rest of her body appeared to return to its pre-baby status, her belly didn't - - and by didn't, I mean she looked like she was pregnant for nearly three years. I knew better but I was struck by it every time.
You, m'dear, do NOT!
I have a cousin like that, too.
Also, thank you. :-)
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