So, there is one woman at work who persists in telling me -- everyday -- that I am too big for only 14 weeks down. She is convinced I have a second baby hiding somewhere. Daddy P and I know that really what is going on is that we have the first pro linebacker named Cletusella in my tummy.
This on top of two kids in separate classes last week who asked if I was pregnant (in front of the whole class as I'm teaching a lesson on bullying), a mom who noticed, and my coworker who has taken to calling me "mom." It is all a little jarring to one's identity.
Did any of you mothers have a hard time adjusting to your personal life being so, well, OUT there?
Perhaps it's the whole line-of-work thing. I use self-disclosure very, very, very little at work, and only to achieve specific, well-thought-out ends. (Which is why I fired my own personal therapist who, in my opinion, was using therapy more to talk about him than me.) But then, suddenly, here I am. It is suddenly clear to all those around me that 1) I've had sex, and 2) That this has resulted in offspring. It is interesting though to see all the assumptions people make from there.
But back to the point... never tell a pregnant woman she is too big. I am already self-conscious enough as a woman who can no longer button up her size 8 pants (thank god I have pants in sizes 10 and 12 to boot!) and is only in the middle of month three. (I poo poo those who say that you do not show until month five. Who are you? Why do you state this idea in all my pregnancy books?).
I am having a fun time, though, of wearing all of my clingy tops to go ahead and make it obvious that the bulge is indeed a baby bump and not the queso that I made last week.
Speaking of which, I found a really yummy non-Velveta queso recipe for those interested...
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