... Is Kevin's parents anniversary, the date of the 9/12 project (for all you Glenn Beckers out there) and apparently a fitting day for us to have a kid. So there it is. We have a date. Unless baby #4 decides that it's too late and comes earlier. Which has never happened before, so I don't expect it to now. And even though I've been painting up a storm the last few days, and have gone to bed with some major body soreness... I also keep in mind that I re-did a kitchen while pregnant with the boys. And they were right on their scheduled date too. Clearly, I have to do more than hunch over, bend over, and stretch to get babies out. Running a marathon might do the trick, but seeing as I haven't run in over 7 months, that could be ugly. And time consuming. So I'll stick to painting. And caulking. And sanding.
Amy Mathews... are you proud of me?
Friday, July 29, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
No You are Not my Neighbor
Here's a post for everyone who has been pregnant with more than one child already running around. And it's to the people who stare, wide eyed at us, as we waddle through grocery stores, home improvement stores, or malls, obviously a bit more tired than normal, sometimes with our existing kids screaming as we go. It's also for the general public who think it is their job to manage your child bearing desires, rudely asking if you are in fact "done" after current baby in belly is born.
Mine happened this past weekend, as I was ordering ever so kindly in a McDonald's. The crazy boys weren't even with me.. they were obeying in the potty with Kevin. As I explained to the woman behind the counter that no, I was indeed not on my way to some parenting class or hospital tour, because this was number four.. been there done that before. She apparently then thought it her job to confirm that I was in fact "done" after this one. I kindly responded, yet thought later how incredibly rude of a question that really was.
Um, Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but it's not really any of your business whether or not I chose to have one child, or 15 children. Unless I land a TV reality show (which sometimes I feel like I'm in already)... it is my feeling that the world around me, besides my husband, and the doc who would be able to control things, have any right to ask.
It's like someone telling you that they know you can't handle your life, so you better stop before you crash. I should have returned and asked her what she made behind that counter, and if she was current on all of her bills. Because it's that personal of an issue for a pregnant woman to be asked by a total stranger. Friends have a right to ask. They are friends. Women talk about such things... to women that they know.
But if you, oh strange person in the store, who has given me the stink eye because my current children just knocked down a shelf... yes you. You have no right to know whether or not I will be back in 5 years with 5 more children to destroy the rest of your store. I just might. Or I might call it a day after number 4 arrives. Who knows? I sure don't. Which means that you sure won't either. Have I made myself clear?
Thanks, now I would really like my cheeseburger and fries. Because I'm pregnant. And I'm pretty hungry.
Mine happened this past weekend, as I was ordering ever so kindly in a McDonald's. The crazy boys weren't even with me.. they were obeying in the potty with Kevin. As I explained to the woman behind the counter that no, I was indeed not on my way to some parenting class or hospital tour, because this was number four.. been there done that before. She apparently then thought it her job to confirm that I was in fact "done" after this one. I kindly responded, yet thought later how incredibly rude of a question that really was.
Um, Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but it's not really any of your business whether or not I chose to have one child, or 15 children. Unless I land a TV reality show (which sometimes I feel like I'm in already)... it is my feeling that the world around me, besides my husband, and the doc who would be able to control things, have any right to ask.
It's like someone telling you that they know you can't handle your life, so you better stop before you crash. I should have returned and asked her what she made behind that counter, and if she was current on all of her bills. Because it's that personal of an issue for a pregnant woman to be asked by a total stranger. Friends have a right to ask. They are friends. Women talk about such things... to women that they know.
But if you, oh strange person in the store, who has given me the stink eye because my current children just knocked down a shelf... yes you. You have no right to know whether or not I will be back in 5 years with 5 more children to destroy the rest of your store. I just might. Or I might call it a day after number 4 arrives. Who knows? I sure don't. Which means that you sure won't either. Have I made myself clear?
Thanks, now I would really like my cheeseburger and fries. Because I'm pregnant. And I'm pretty hungry.
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