More “odds” than “ends”

Sometimes there’s a lot I want to talk about, but it doesn’t all go together. This is one of those posts!

So, I just read a snippet of Jesica’s blog “Just Smile and Blog” and I can 100% relate! She writes:

Normally I wouldn’t be one to put pictures of myself in my underwear up anywhere on the internet…or even a bikini… would never happen, but there’s something about this pregnant belly that makes your body feel like it’s not really YOUR body… and apparently that makes it ok.  Like it’s ok because I’m just this walking incubator right now NOT a real person.  This is not my real stomach, these are not my real boobs, IT ALL BELONGS TO BABY.  Hahaha, anyone else feel like this?  I know some people feel terribly unattractive and fat while they’re pregnant and I fully agree that in certain clothes I’m like UGH, am I really THAT wide?  But walking around in my underwear?  I feel really pretty and sexy and love my bump.

It’s only when I’m in clothing… and worse, have to go into the outside world that I start to feel big, fat, even unattractive at times. Like I’m supposed to look like a supermodel with a baby bump! But when I’m at home, or in my underwear, or naked walking into the shower… I feel beautiful! I just look at my belly and can’t stop smiling. I love the way it looks.

Just today, I thought… I should wear a bikini when I go swimming. (I haven’t worn a bikini since I was 15, mind you.) But there really is something about being pregnant – and maybe it is that it doesn’t completely feel like it’s my belly, that makes me love my body in a way I never did before. You know what? I’m not going to over think this. I’m just going to embrace it!

***

Next on the list of things to update is my mother-in-law. Remember about a month ago when she suggested we name our daughter Rhonda? And I was worried that calling the name “old-fashioned” might have offended her? Well… it looks like I can add her to the list of sensitive mothers. (So far, only my step-mother has succeeded in avoiding the list.)

My hubby calls his mom every Sunday on his way to work. Yesterday, she asked if we’d come up with a baby name yet. [I’ve decided that our pat answer to this should now be, “No, we’re waiting until she’s born.” Since that will probably be what happens anyway.]

He said we hadn’t and she went on to tell him just how much she still loves the name Rhonda…. “I know, Mom,” he says, and she proceeds to explain how it was such a shame that I didn’t like the name. “She said it was old!” his mother scoffs, and adds, “But I just think it’s so beautiful! Rhonda Lee.” (As if we needed to be reminded!) “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll come up with something,” he tells her as he rushes to get off the phone.

I guess I need to learn how to lie a little more proficiently. Direct questions have always been my Achilles heel. Had she not asked, “Do you like the name?” I might have been able to swerve around the topic somehow. My husband is full of suggestions about what I could have said, but when lying (even white lies) is not in your nature, these glib retorts don’t roll off your tongue so easily.

He says she’s not offended, but I secretly think that when she’s not talking to us, she’s thinking, “I could have had a granddaughter named Rhonda if not for my meddling daughter-in-law!” Hahaha.

***

In other dramatic mother news…. I could call this “Crazy Mother part 3” but what’s the point? My mother, who is the craziest of them all, and the only person who can suck up all my energy in 2 seconds flat, is causing more problems and stress for me. So, what else is new?

Her new complaint is a doozy. I was talking to her last week (by which I mean that I was on the other end of the phone while she rattled off a long list of life-related complaints and chronicles of depression) when she said, “I’ve been meditating and I know now why I’m depressed.” “Why?” I asked partly out of boredom and partly out of duty. “We’ll talk about it another time,” she said, which – in my experience with her  signals a major red-flag warning – and I know I’ll be at the receiving end of said shit-storm. I groan. “Why? Is it something I did?” I reluctantly ask.

Finally, she gives in and says, “I feel that {insert step-mother’s name here} has replaced me as your mother!” I should have said, “Are you fucking kidding me, psycho?” But I actually said, “What?! What are you talking about?” And of course, I knew what was coming next. She’s the one who helped me plan the baby shower; she’s the one I turn to for advice on the party; she’s the one whose involved while my mother sits on the sidelines – blah, blah, blah.

This… coming from the woman who should be the one planning my baby shower, the woman to whom I gave every opportunity to help in even the smallest details and who categorically refused! I was livid and, in truth, ready for a fight. I reminded her that I had asked for her help and she had said, and I quote, “Can’t someone else do that?” And, so, someone else did! “But you didn’t even ask me if it was okay to go with her to pick out the things for the party rental,” she retorted, weakly. “I’m supposed to ask you for permission?” I said in a high-pitched, really getting pissed-off voice.

And a few minutes later, my agitated husband grabbed the phone and went to another room to have a word with my mother. Whatever else anyone can say about my husband, there’s no denying that he’s a diplomat of the highest order and a great, no, really GREAT bullshitter. And I mean that in the best possible way!

I really wanted a fight. I did. I was looking for an excuse to not talk to her for a long time (hell, any amount of time!) just so I could get some peace. But my husband was intent on putting out the flames. He explained to her that I was under a lot of stress and that whatever I feel, the baby feels (so, he does listen to me) and that keeping me calm was the most important thing for everyone to focus on right now. He did a lot of schmoozing for about 20 minutes before my mom finally calmed down. I was grateful… but still kind of regretted not getting that break I was looking forward to!

***

Well, that’s about it for my mad-cap adventures this week. Someday I will hopefully internalize the truism that you can’t make everyone happy. It is verifiably impossible. Maybe someday I’ll also learn not to let it all stress me out so much!

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6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Daryl
    Jul 03, 2012 @ 16:07:21

    Ugh. I’m sorry your mom continues to stress you out. Maybe you should take that beautiful bod of yours to a spa for a much-needed massage!

    Reply

  2. Laura
    Jul 04, 2012 @ 07:23:18

    I can’t lie either and I think it is a great trait (regardless of who it angers). Your baby, your choices! Look at that beautiful belly and smile!

    Reply

  3. Maria
    Jul 08, 2012 @ 10:49:48

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