At least, that's my theory. That also explains why there are no pics in today's post - I'm too lazy to go & get the camera.
Nothing too new other than the snow (boo!) & the little radiant electric heater that the man got me for the basement (yay!).
Also, we've officially reached the halfway point - and my belly still looks tiny, compared to most pregnant people I see. On the other hand, people are wearing winter jackets, so to look pregnant under a parka you really REALLY are!
The entire world seems to have turned into a kind of sociological experiment for me. Witness the gym - I've been swimming since I can't con myself into 'enjoying' the rest of the gym. Swimming lengths, however, I do like*. And the change room is such a wealth of parenting examples! There's the mom who's helping her little person figure out the numbers on the combination lock, the other mom who lets her kids pick whichever locker they want ("Remember, 94. 94.") She's got to have some fun after lessons, as she had three little kids, & there was no logical or sequential order to their choices. Those moms both seem cool, & their kids seemed to be having fun.
Today I ran into the first mom who gave me a cold prickly, which was surprising. I was just in the process of getting dressed, & while I will shower nekkid freely, I'm not one of those lounge-around-the-change-room-air-drying-my parts-for-hours people either. Once I'm out of the shower, I'm under my towel. Or, various parts of me are as I struggle to dry off, get dressed, & keep my sodden hair from soaking me, my clothes, etc. Today, I quit swimming early, driven out by the kids in swimming lessons. Who knew that a six year old built like a twig could make that much of a splish Splish SPLASH in the lane next to me?
Anyways. So I had showered, dried off, lotioned up my belly, & had gotten into my pants, & just stuffed my hair into a towel. I was pretty much ignoring the moms & tots wandering through. As I was struggling into my tank top (darn wet skin! always so sticky!), I noticed the mom at the far left of me take her son's face by both cheeks & pointedly turn his head away from me.
Now, I've enjoyed/been plagued by my share of prurient** glances, and let me say: this kid, who was maybe 4 1/2 or 5, was simply looking at me because I was the only thing moving in his line of vision. There wasn't even curiosity about my boobs.
And the mom's body language didn't say "now junior, we've talked about no staring in the change rooms", it said "that shameless hussy! look away! scarlett woman at 3 o'clock!". I felt sheepish at first, and then offended, and then perplexed. And also defensive - I have a wedding band, see? And a pregnant belly, see? I can't be a smoldering vixen of evil!***
And really, what's so wrong about boobs? Netween babies & grown men, I'd say over half of society is fixated on them. My only wish is that augmentation was not so needed/desired by society. And if the little boy is curious about boobs, why, he can go & find out where any healthy prairie boy should go - the Sears catalog.
Also, if his mother is so upset over female nudity in the female changerooms, then why in mercy's name didn't she use the mother/son changeroom?**** Are there more boobies in there? Bigger boobies? Boobies that make eye contact? Who can say.
All I know is: 1) she threw a little rock in my mental pond, & 2) I need to start thinking about this early: if the Fish is a boy, how boob friendly should his life be? Should I have a parade of strange (ie: not mine) boobs coming & going before he's three, so he's all jaded about them (at least until the hormones kick in)? Or should he only go to the pool with his dad, thereby only being exposed to man-boobies, which in my opinion are far more psychically scarring, as they have hair! Chest hair is fine, man boobs, whatever, but hairy man-bobs- aieeeeee!!!
Well, now that I've used boob just about as much as Dooce does, I should sign off & go & raid the Halloween candy. Nighty nooties.
Nothing too new other than the snow (boo!) & the little radiant electric heater that the man got me for the basement (yay!).
Also, we've officially reached the halfway point - and my belly still looks tiny, compared to most pregnant people I see. On the other hand, people are wearing winter jackets, so to look pregnant under a parka you really REALLY are!
The entire world seems to have turned into a kind of sociological experiment for me. Witness the gym - I've been swimming since I can't con myself into 'enjoying' the rest of the gym. Swimming lengths, however, I do like*. And the change room is such a wealth of parenting examples! There's the mom who's helping her little person figure out the numbers on the combination lock, the other mom who lets her kids pick whichever locker they want ("Remember, 94. 94.") She's got to have some fun after lessons, as she had three little kids, & there was no logical or sequential order to their choices. Those moms both seem cool, & their kids seemed to be having fun.
Today I ran into the first mom who gave me a cold prickly, which was surprising. I was just in the process of getting dressed, & while I will shower nekkid freely, I'm not one of those lounge-around-the-change-room-air-drying-my parts-for-hours people either. Once I'm out of the shower, I'm under my towel. Or, various parts of me are as I struggle to dry off, get dressed, & keep my sodden hair from soaking me, my clothes, etc. Today, I quit swimming early, driven out by the kids in swimming lessons. Who knew that a six year old built like a twig could make that much of a splish Splish SPLASH in the lane next to me?
Anyways. So I had showered, dried off, lotioned up my belly, & had gotten into my pants, & just stuffed my hair into a towel. I was pretty much ignoring the moms & tots wandering through. As I was struggling into my tank top (darn wet skin! always so sticky!), I noticed the mom at the far left of me take her son's face by both cheeks & pointedly turn his head away from me.
Now, I've enjoyed/been plagued by my share of prurient** glances, and let me say: this kid, who was maybe 4 1/2 or 5, was simply looking at me because I was the only thing moving in his line of vision. There wasn't even curiosity about my boobs.
And the mom's body language didn't say "now junior, we've talked about no staring in the change rooms", it said "that shameless hussy! look away! scarlett woman at 3 o'clock!". I felt sheepish at first, and then offended, and then perplexed. And also defensive - I have a wedding band, see? And a pregnant belly, see? I can't be a smoldering vixen of evil!***
And really, what's so wrong about boobs? Netween babies & grown men, I'd say over half of society is fixated on them. My only wish is that augmentation was not so needed/desired by society. And if the little boy is curious about boobs, why, he can go & find out where any healthy prairie boy should go - the Sears catalog.
Also, if his mother is so upset over female nudity in the female changerooms, then why in mercy's name didn't she use the mother/son changeroom?**** Are there more boobies in there? Bigger boobies? Boobies that make eye contact? Who can say.
All I know is: 1) she threw a little rock in my mental pond, & 2) I need to start thinking about this early: if the Fish is a boy, how boob friendly should his life be? Should I have a parade of strange (ie: not mine) boobs coming & going before he's three, so he's all jaded about them (at least until the hormones kick in)? Or should he only go to the pool with his dad, thereby only being exposed to man-boobies, which in my opinion are far more psychically scarring, as they have hair! Chest hair is fine, man boobs, whatever, but hairy man-bobs- aieeeeee!!!
Well, now that I've used boob just about as much as Dooce does, I should sign off & go & raid the Halloween candy. Nighty nooties.
*Once I get the ratted rubber swim cap on - aiee!
**Prurient - having, inclined to have, or characterized by lascivious or lustful thoughts, desires, etc. Opposite of prudish. Which was his mother.
***Except on weekends. And it's Monday today.
****Look what has happened to me!!!! I began a sentence with a conjunction! Horrors! Look away, Susan & Coreen!
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