If you don't have anything nice to say...

As my father told me, and as I failed to listen (perhaps this is my karma?!), "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

I've decided a public service announcement is due. As I near the third trimester, my ever burgeoning bump is now at the point where it makes an appearance before I do. That's cool. Baby is approx. two pounds and 15 inches. He is getting big, so obviously I will get bigger with him. 

Despite people's beliefs, I am also quite fucking aware that I am getting bigger. Because of this, I do not need the following said to me:

• You're huge/big/large/ginormous/etc. OR You're going to be huge.
• I am not any of these things, you fucking asshole. Have I gained weight? Yes. A whopping 35 pounds so far. Let's also remember that I'm just barely under 5'10" (thank you, Dad, for the amazing genetics). That means that even though I've gained 35 pounds, I don't look like an oompa loompa. You, however, may leave much to be desired.
• Regarding the comment about the fact that I will be huge - yeah, when I'm 40 weeks pregnant, I don't expect to have the body of Kate Moss. I expect that I will look 40 weeks pregnant. Maybe I will be "huge" at that time, but I have something the size of watermelon in me. What's your excuse?
• Are you sure you aren't carrying twins/triplets/etc?
• Funny story - I got pregnant. Then, I went to the doctor a bunch of times and they did a bunch of ultrasounds over the last 28 weeks. Imagine that! He's only ever found one fucking baby. So yes, I am 137% positive that I'm not have multiples, you fucking twat. 
• You know you're going to be miserable this summer, right?
• Yes. I do. I'm going to be 8 months pregnant in August. I am aware that it will be hot and as a result I will be hot. I know how to count. I know what months of the year I will be pregnant in. I know how I will feel being pregnant during that time because I'm the fucking pregnant one here.
• You're not really eating for two. You only need 'X' amount of extra calories per day.
• I will eat whatever I want, whenever I want. And I don't give a single flying fuck. What I do give a fuck about those is how insensitive some people can be about what I am eating. Is it your body? Is it your baby? Is it your place to make any sort of comment? In case you missed the tone of the rest of this blog entry (which I suspect is entirely possible based on the crass comments coming out of your mouth), the answer is no.

The fact of the matter is that you're not likely to tell a woman who actually is obese that she is huge. You wouldn't comment on her weight. You wouldn't make her feel like a bag of shit.

Therefore, it is not okay to make a pregnant woman (OR ANY HUMAN BEING) feel this way either. 

For the most part, I've accepted these types of comments. I've laughed them off, I've nodded and smiled, or I've ignored them entirely. 

I won't be doing so anymore. 

If anyone feels the need to comment on my weight in the future (or the possible weight of my child based on how I currently look), I will unleash all of my fury on the idiot who does. I won't feel a single bit bad about it either, because hey, along with being a huge pregnant lady I am also a hormonal bitch on a good day. What's your excuse?

Hopes

I took a few weeks off from writing, mostly because the last few weeks have been boring and having three jobs keeps me ridiculously busy.

Kreature has laid off on causing me sickness, back pain, and misery in general for the last few weeks. It almost allows me to forgive him for the 22 weeks prior to that. Almost.

Last month, Jordan and I went to see Jim Jefferies at the Moncton Casino. He spotted me in the front row and razzed me a bit about being pregnant. He also asked what sort of hopes I have for my son. I jokingly responded, "I hope that he doesn't turn out like his father."

All jokes aside (Jordan will be a great dad, I'm sure of it), it got me thinking about what I actually do hope for. That topped with some extra judgmental horseshit I've seen littering my Facebook news feed lately has made me realize the following:

1) I want my son to grow up in a world where he can be who he truly is. Whether he is gay, straight, bisexual, or transgender, I want nothing more than for him to feel comfortable in his own skin and to know that his father and I will always love him (unless of course he's a serial killer...I'm sure I'll still love him, but maaaaaaaaybe I'll keep my distance...and hide the butcher knives).

Just recently I read an article about how a woman believed she had been born into the wrong body and should have been born a man. However, instead of transitioning, she lived her life uncomfortably because obviously God doesn't make mistakes and she is exactly as she should be, regardless of if she feels she should have been born a male. That's fine. That's her choice. But I don't ever want my child to feel like he can't be who he wants to be because of a god he's never seen.

2) This leads me into the fact that we aren't going to baptize/christen/dedicate our child. My grandmother probably just fainted and my grandfather is likely rolling over in his grave. Oy.

Sure, I was baptized Catholic. I went to church every Sunday with my grandfather until he passed away. I went through the whole "confirmation" business in grade 2, and perhaps on some level I like to think that this life isn't it, that there may be a possibility of something beyond; however, I'm not about to bet my life savings on it (as little as that might be).

If Kreature decides that he wishes to partake in religion or in some other spiritual belief, I'll talk with him about it. I'll tell him what I know (which is very little), and let him explore what the world offers in the way of beliefs. I draw the line at trying to sacrifice the dog to Belial, though.

3) I hope that my son knows kindness in this world and can return that kindness as well. I want him to treat people fairly, to know that he shouldn't judge others just because they don't see things the way he does, and above all, to realize that perhaps "agreeing to disagree" is easier than trying to bring someone around to his own belief system.

As I've learned (or perhaps, am still learning), we aren't going to agree on everything. As long as the beliefs of others don't attempt to take away my rights and aren't shared in a hateful way, people can go ahead and believe whatever the hell they want. Same goes for Kreature.

4) I want him to grow up in a world where gender equality is not just something people (women) hope for, but that it's actually in existence. At the very least, I want him to realize that their should be gender equality and if he marries a woman someday, to treat her with the respect she deserves. Hell, if he marries a man, he should respect him too. Respect all.

Sure, I do most of the cooking and cleaning around our house. I wash, fold, and put away the laundry. I make sure things run smoothly. How 1950s of me, right? I do these things because I like the way that I do them. I like the clothes put away a certain way. I love to cook and bake. I enjoy the feeling of coming home to a clean house. That being said, I know Jordan will pitch in if I ask, and he even sometimes surprises me by doing things I don't ask him to do. We both contribute equally financially to the house and we take care of each other. I want the same kind of relationship for my son someday. The kind where we can give each other shit but have each other's back.

In a nutshell, I want Kreature to be raised like I was - by parents who weren't perfect, but who did their best, gave their all, and loved me unconditionally. Which says a lot, because I am a total bitch.