Friday, April 30, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
"So... how are you feeling?"
This is one of the polite and acceptable questions to ask a pregnant woman. It shows concern for her well-being, as well as an understanding that pregnancy is not an easy task. No mention of weight, baby names, or child-care issues, it is probably the nicest (and safest) question to ask me at this time.
So when a male friend (actually, the same guy that made that comment about my weight a while back) asked me, as we're picking up our boys from school, "So, how are you feeling?" I was actually impressed.
"Tired," I laughed, trying to play it off as funny. I try not to complain too much, even though I'm not 100%. My back is killing me, my side aches, I'm on a nonfat diet, and I can't have caffeine. Of course I don't feel 100%!
So I just replied, "You know... exhausted. But otherwise, I'm feeling good."
"Huh," he laughed. "Yeah, I remember."
I looked at him. "You don't remember," I corrected him. "Your wife remembers. You have no idea how I'm feeling."
Was that rude? But why do some guys act like they understand how it feels to be pregnant? When you're SO tired, you can barely keep your eyes open, after all you've done is sort the laundry. Or when walking up the stairs makes you short of breath. Or when your new bedtime is now 9 o'clock. It is a whole new exhaustion -- one that I had never known until I was pregnant.
Since then I've had two other men say the same thing to me, too. And I always correct them: they really have NO IDEA.
Hubby will come home sometimes, tired from a hard day at work, and sigh heavily, "Man, I'm tired." Then he catches my dark look from across the room. "Well, probably not as tired as you." Exactly.
I am used to being a very active person. I am usually constantly moving, running around with two kids, getting housework done, running errands, taking care of my family or four (plus a dog and a cat). I walk the three blocks to and from my son's school (uphill) every day, as well as go to the gym at least three times a week. At least, I used to. Now I get tired after trying to open a jar of peanut butter. This feeling of exhaustion is not only new, it's hella annoying. It's cramping my style.
And, yes, I know all the research as to why I'm so tired. As as normal pregnant woman in her last trimester, I'm carrying around some extra weight, and I'm not sleeping very well. Plus, I have other kids to take care of, so my time to rest is limited. I get the reasons why... but I don't have to like it. It's still annoying.
So when some guy says, with mock sympathy, that he knows how I feel, I can't help but get defensive. Plus, it's that lack of caffeine talking.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
It amazes me how fascinated people are with my expanding belly. And these are the people the already knew I was pregnant. Didn't they know that a pregnant woman is supposed to grow bigger in the midsection? Yet some people still act surprised, even when they know I'm 7 months pregnant, to see that my belly has gotten a little bigger.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
After reading this article on Parent Dish, it reminded me of one of the first posts I wrote for this blog a few years back, about a snooty librarian who seemed to be more rude than helpful.
When did librarians get so standoffish? I remember when I was younger, going to the library, and those librarians were the sweetest ladies in the world. They used to interact with us, helping us find interesting and fun books to read, walking around the library looking for someone that needed assistance, or just a smile. What happened to those days?
I think the mom in this article is completely justified in going upstairs to find her own book, while her 5-year-old daughter sits with a book in the children's area. Libraries are divided into sections, right? So, are we really expecting children to patiently stand in the adult section while we moms contemplate reading selections and browse shelves? That's why I thought they had the kids' section, filled with stuffed animals, puzzles, colorful chairs and plush pillows, scores of teen idol posters garnishing the walls so we can show our kids "See, Zac Ephron reads books, too!" It's supposed to attract the kids to linger there on there own, or so I thought.
It doesn't take that long for an adult to find a book, especially without her kids in tow. Kids over age 4 should be allowed to sit with a book or other library activity with the supervision of the librarian. It used to be a librarian's job to watch over the children, assist them in finding books, and basically manage the area. But today, they are rarely seen out behind their large desks, instead giving disapproving looks or the occasional "Shh!" I know they have their weekly story time, a scheduled sit-down where they read to toddlers and sing songs for groups. But after that, they are back behind their desks. Where is the interaction?
The mom in this article told the librarian where she was going and that she would be back soon. Her daughter was occupied with her own book and was sitting quietly. So what is the problem? I'm not saying that librarians should be babysitters, watching over children while their parents leave the building of are away for hours at a time. But I see no reason why they shouldn't be capable of keeping an eye on a child (who, according to the mom, was the only child there) for a second while the mom heads upstairs.
What happened to the friendly, kindly librarian? She used to embody a sense of community, one of those helpers who we could count on to assist our children and insure their safety. Now it seems like we parents are just in for scoldings or parental warnings. Ladies, get someone else to shelve books and hand out a smile instead.