Say what you like about me, I know how to throw one hell of a party.
I woke this morning to the scent of cocktail weenies and taco dip, secure in the knowledge that my baked artichoke dip garnered a spot in Huge Midwestern University lore. Even the deviled eggs went, and that can be a tricky dish.
We had 30 people here last night, and they all seemed to have a good time. They were, on the whole, excellent guests, with the exception of the master’s student who never once introduced himself to me and left without saying thank you – especially rude since it was the masters students who wanted to have the damn party in the first place.
The kitchen is an unmitigated disaster, but on the other hand, The Poo slept until 9:40 this morning, worn out from her solo and much applauded performance of the ABC song
As much as I enjoy the compliments, it’s safe to say this was the last party we’ll be throwing for quite some time. The next gathering will be for Shaggy’s Christening sometime in the fall.
Speaking of Shaggy, I have a PSA for all you slender young ladies out there.
I was checking the beanless bean dip when a well-dressed couple arrived. Young and thin, they were all black blazers and effortless confidence.
I introduced myself to the woman and thanked her for the hostess gift and veggie tray she brought with her. After several hours on my feet, my belly was sore. Supporting my aching uterus with one hand, the outline of my almost-popped navel poked through my jersey dress.
During the course of our small talk, I made some crack about being pregnant. The woman looked at me and said:
“Oh! I never would have know! How far along are you?”
HOW FAR ALONG AM I?
Lady, you are either blind, stupid or unfailingly polite. My belly is as obvious as neon sign flashing the word “fertile.”
This slender young blond thing then revealed that she, too, is expecting. Nine weeks along, she said.
I congratulated her and made my way through the crowd to The Poo, who was showing anyone who cared to look her new Strawberry Shortcake underpants.
I took her to the bathroom for a prophylactic potty trip and looked at myself sideways in the mirror.
How far along, indeed.
Note to all: telling a woman who is six-and-a-half months pregnant that you didn’t know she was knocked up does not make her feel better. It makes her feel like she could be mistaken for a big fat cow.
Not cool.
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
When I was pregnant with Einey, I worked on a Friday and had her the Tuesday after. The preschool I worked in had a sign up that announced her birth. When I went back to work 6 weeks later, I got alot of congratulations, but also alot of “I didn’t know you were pregnant”’s as well.
I got that a ton in law school. One particular time I was 7 months (7 months!) along and someone I had 2 classes with said she had no idea. I lifted my sweatshirt to expose my maternity jeans (high waisted kind) and heard a lot of OMGs.
I hope you had a little fun and am glad everything went smoothly.
If I could smack her, I would. >_< She should be thankful there’s the entirety of the Atlantic keeping us separate.
I believe I’ve told you of the humiliation I suffered at the hand of a particularly stupid restaurant’s manager when he seated my husband, a friend and her 9-year-old daughter and me and GAVE ME A CHILDREN’S MENU.
I was 8 months pregnant with Evan.
That woman, though, should’ve kept her skinny mouth shut and just said, “You look great!” (Mainly because you do).
My belly button popped with the positive HPT.
Just stopping by to say “hi” before I leave for my fabulous lake cabin. Don’t be jealous, I’m sprinkling you love all over the internet. Now where’s that straight jacket, hmm…
I don’t know if you read my blog but if you do you might remember after I had Ella, [she was about 5 months old I think...] someone I didn’t know asked me how far along I was… I was all cut up about that one I can tell ya!
Not cool!
Wow. Just wow.
and FYI: You sooo looked pregnant in your last photo you posted. And I bet you were never asked postpartum how far along you were, you slender thing. Sadly, I was asked that shortly after my daughter’s birth. Ouch!
Someone just said that same thing to me 2 weeks ago. And I’ll be having this baby in 12 days.
What the heck? I don’t understand how people go through life without learning common courtesy, like don’t say things like that to pregnant people. Especially when you’re a twig!
Oh, poor girl! It is surely her first baby, and she has no idea. And maybe from the angle you did just look normal. My evil sister just had a baby, and indeed, because she is blessed with hooters and because she does not rise like a loaf of bread when pregnant, from some angles you couldn’t tell.
Just rest in the knowledge that you are glowing and lovely, and that girl will likely never make that mistake again, unless it’s within the next few months.
Yeah, that’s just as bad as asking a non-preggers woman when she’s due.
I asked my OB to do the sonogram on my ass when I was pregnant with Chase.
That part of me became larger and my stomach stayed little while my feet became snausages and my carpel tunnel made me miserable. STFU comes to mind but perhaps she didn’t know any better. And bring Poo by on Tuesdays for OT or you can bring her by any day for Mommy OT. I have major tricks up my sleeve for feeding issues.
Really not cool. Perhaps she thought it was a compliment? I always hated the you don’t look pregnant from behind comment. What does that mean exactly?
Perhaps you should have made some comment about peroxide and brain damage ?
A. Clearly, people just plain don’t pay attention anymore. Was she even looking at you? People are rude, ex. black blazer woman.
B. Beats the alternative and being asked if you when you were due and not being preggers at all, I suppose.
Ugh I am shocked you didn’t throw dip at that woman! I had a nurse at 8 1/2 months tell me that she never would have known I was pregnant.
I actually lunged for her.
Our new rabbi (we’re new to the synagogue, which I guess is obvious, since we’re new to LA) said the same thing: “YOu’re pregnant?” My belly opens gates three minutes before the rest of me arrives.
Yes, I totally agree. What a nut! Seriously, she must have had one of those, “OMG, I can’t believe I said that” moments on her way home from the party.
I really, REALLY hope that she just blurted that out without thinking because she was nervous. And I hope she freaked out about it all night to her husband, when she realized what she’d said. And I kinda hope it hits her again in about six months, just how lousy a thing that was to say!
(However, as a person who frequently puts her foot in her mouth, I can’t be too hard on her. If she’s like me, she just can’t stop herself until it’s too late, and she HEARS it and realizes, “Wha… wait, I didn’t mean it like THAT!”
Ugh.
Oh NO SHE DINT!
Totally uncool.