Out of the mouth of...

"One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about humans was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious." — Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

We're shopping somewhere--anywhere, it doesn't really matter--and the shopping experience takes twice as long because people form living breathing talking barriers around us. And then they open their mouths.

"That's a tiny baby!" they exclaim.

"Yes, it is!" We exclaim back, reaching around them for the milk.

"They don't stay that way!" these people always feel the need to inform us, even though our three year old daughter, who is considerably larger than her sister, is right next to us. Presumably, even if we were ignorant of the fact that babies grow larger, we'd know by now.

We bite our tongues so the sarcastic "really!?" does not come tumbling out.

And then they smile at me like I've just created a small galaxy. They ignore my husband, even if he's holding the baby.

This happens at every stop, with every single customer, every single time.

At least they've stopped asking me when my due date is.

And then..

I was discharged from the hospital with strict instructions not to drive a car, climb stairs, or pick up anything heavier than the baby for six weeks post-partum, all of which were promptly violated as soon as I got home. Aside from the fact that we run a farm, our bedroom is upstairs, it does not take much physical strength to drive a car, and we have a 28 pound toddler...do they really think our species survived for so long because the women lounged around in the cave while the men did all the hunting and the gathering?

And the winner is...

Lauren, a girl, weighing 7 lbs 6 ounces, and measuring 19.5 inches long, born at 8:04am on May 10th, 2010.

Can't Touch This

Maybe I had a fiercer look in my face last time or maybe I was just lucky, but during my last pregnancy I only had one instance of someone trying to touch me, and that was an old, senile lady who signalled her intent from miles away and whom I was able to fend off before she actually managed her assault.

This time I have been touched at least five times, all of them unexpectedly.

Note to all the touchy-feely people out there: we teach our children it isn't okay if other people touch them and we teach them not to touch other people without asking, and you wouldn't dream of touching a woman on the belly any other time, so stop the ^&&%#^&#% touching!!

Pregnant women are not somehow suddenly in a different class of "human" when we become pregnant. We don't belong to you or to society. All the laws of polite society still apply to us. Don't ask us how much weight we've gained, don't tell us we look huge and for god's sake don't assault us with your ugly calloused dirty hands.

It's just never, ever ever ever acceptable. Okay? I mean, it just isn't. I'm sorry if your brain turns off at the mere sight of a pregnant woman, but just, I don't know, put your hands behind your back and tape your mouth shut if you have this problem. Because it is definitely your problem, not ours.

I did have one person ask me if she could touch me. It was nice of her to ask, I guess. Except, she'd already touched me. "Is it okay to touch?" she says, poking at my belly.

No.

No.

No.