"Wow, are you sure there's only ONE in there?" Oh, do you mean twins? Is that something I should be concerned about?
"You must be ready to pop any day now, eh?" I've got weeks to go. You must be ready for a pop in the junk, eh?
"You must be just miserable. You look miserable." Well, I wasn't until you said so. Jackass.
A few weeks ago, Eric, Maya, and I went to a friend's son's first birthday party. It was a traditional family gathering: men in the kitchen talking about trucks, women in the living room tending to the children. All the attendees were conservative Dutch folk. I was the only one there without blonde hair. I was also the only working mom there. Clutch the pearls! What will happen to my poor children rotting away in daycare?! Surely they'll grow up to be pathological liars and serial killers or have bad teeth. Or something.
One of the lovely young ladies turned to me at one point and said "so, now that Maya is four, are you guys thinking of having another one?"
I started to laugh, because surely she must be joking. But all I could say was "what?!"
"Are you and Eric planning on having another child?"
I looked down at my 14 toilet-paper-square-around belly and said, "Yeah. . . In six weeks."
"Oh!" she replied, "I thought you might be pregnant, but I just wasn't sure. You don't really look pregnant. I wasn't sure if you were pregnant, or just. . . you know. . ."
Or just what? Smuggling a turkey? Sporting a goiter? FAT?!
So I gave her the are-you-really-that-ignorant look and said "yes, I'm pregnant. The baby is due in six weeks."
She laughed and said again "oh, because you really don't look that pregnant. I wasn't sure if you were pregnant, or just. . you know. . ."
So I replied "I wasn't sure if you were stupid, or just, you know. . ."
Ok, I didn't say that. But I wanted to. I just smiled and said again "yes, I'm pregnant."
And then hurried away to cross the gender lines into Man Land (aka The Kitchen) and giggle about it with Eric.
In a few short weeks, I will no longer be pregnant, but she'll be still, you know. . .