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Christmas grouse.

2005-12-26 - 10:30 a.m.

Comments directed at me yesterday:

“Wow, you’re really getting big!” and “You remind me of me when I was pregnant. I was always eating too.” (my grandmother)

“Sure I’ll have a chocolate. That’ll be one less for YOU to eat.” (my father in-law)

I told my grandmother that that wasn’t a very nice thing to say, and my father in-law that I didn’t think it was his place to tell me, or any pregnant woman for that matter, what they should or should not be eating and, no, in fact I did not think I was being too sensitive. What is with these people?

Yes, I put on more than I had been during that two week span when I started swelling up, but I’m still nowhere near what a lot of my friends gained by this point in their pregnancies. And even if I’d gained 50 pounds or more, it’s still not really anyone’s business or place to comment negatively. If there’s one time a woman should have absolutely no worries or self-consciousness about her weight, it’s during pregnancy. Pregnancy is a time to revel in your lush, fecund shape. I hate it when people make me feel self- consciousness about the Belly, which I normally delight in flaunting in the mirror or at my husband.

J agrees people shouldn’t say things like that and that it’s unfortunate that they do, but he’s of the opinion that they’re “old” and they can’t help it; they come from a time that women were told to gain no more than 20 or 25 pounds in a pregnancy. Thin was emphasized for pregnant women to an extreme back then and the clothes they wore, when they went out in public at all, were meant to try to conceal their state, not show it off like the styles do today.

He tried to counteract some of what they were saying by whispering to me how beautiful he thinks I am, and how looking at me totally still turns him on, and how much he loves the Belly. I appreciated his efforts but it didn’t really help.

So, rant aside, Christmas was good, Spider’s new boyfriend seems better than the average choice she makes, the food was, as usual amazing (in fact one of the reasons my grandmother thinks of me as “always eating” is that I really only see her at big, food-oriented family events, and both her and my mother are incredible cooks so there’s no way I’m picking at my food like a bird when it’s so good – it’s just not worth saving the calories on occasions like that), and the conversation around the dinner table was lively and engaging. J’s dad, as I mentioned, was there, and our friend Bobby rounded out the table nicely to an even eight diners. J and I are heading back to my mom’s again today (good thing she’s only 45 minutes away) to visit with my aunt and uncle who will be visiting, and we’ll give Spider and her boyfriend a lift back to town to catch a bus home to Toronto.

Sorry that there's so much grousing in this entry - I really had to get that stuff off my chest and let's face it: the holidays with family, much as we love them, can be stressful and bring out some sensitive spots. No one can push our buttons like those we love and who know us best.

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