Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Let me rub your belly

Imagine this...a woman in her thirties walking through the grocery store sees a mighty fine piece of eye candy.  She quickly walks up to him and rubs his washboard abs and exclaims "Oh my!  How many crunches do you do a day?!" This, my friends, would be considered highly inappropriate.

Second scenario...a man in his thirties is walking through the grocery store when he sees a lady with a big ol' belly.  He walks up to her and asks when she is due and touches her tummy. Creepy...yet somewhat acceptable (unless of course she is not expecting at all, but that is another matter altogether).
What is this about?  There is something about pregnancy (and babies for that matter) that gives people a pass to ask inappropriate questions and invade personal space.  I really don't get it.  With my first child I came home from work everyday feeling a tad bit dirty.  Clients felt the need to touch my protruding stomach every time they saw me.  Was I wearing a sign broadcasting "Yes!  I am still knocked up!  Please please put your hands on me!"?

Granted I am pretty stingy about my personal space.  It sceeves me out when people I don't know touch me.  Heck! As a nursing mother, I am all done being touched by anyone  around 8pm.  I don't even care to have Doug in my personal space. I have been known to tell him "the Dairy Queen is now closed....please stop in again later."  All that aside, I can't imagine there are many women who actually enjoy being handled during what can be a very uncomfortable time in her life.

What surprises me even more than the poor boundaries, are the completely inappropriate questions people ask.  I am utterly (hee hee) shocked at the number of people who ask if Doug is disappointed that Sage is a girl.  Really?!  Are there people out there who would say that they wished their beautiful (or even funny looking) child were a different gender?  If so, I hope they have a fund started for the therapy bills.  Another question I get a lot is whether we were trying for a fourth.  I am tempted to respond "Why yes!  While having intercourse with my husband, we chose not to wrap his manly parts.  This allowed one to slip past the goalie.  Boo-ya!"  Equally shocking is how disapproving some are when they find out that yes, we did indeed have another child on purpose!  If we had a protection malfunction they would have understood, but to actually plan a fourth (insert gasp here)!

I have actually started turning the tables on people.  When they ask if we plan on having another, I tell them that Doug needs to get in for surgery.  This really makes a lot of folks squirm.  The idea that my husband is having a small procedure done on his penis is far more delicate an issue than whether my child were conceived intentionally or if I pushed my ten pound baby out my hoo-ha or via c-section.  I give up.  I think I will just special order a onesie for Sage.  It will say "Yes! My mommy and daddy made me on purpose!  Yes! They really did want a fourth GIRL!  Yes! Four babies completes our family! Yes! My daddy goes in for the snip snip as soon as his soccer team has a bye week! Yes! I am REAL...please don't touch me!"