In which I tell you how to not piss off the pregnant lady

So, Greg’s parents are on their way to stay with us for about a week. They should actually be here any time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. It’s not that they’re bad people or annoying or anything, I’m just not comfortable with people staying here that aren’t Greg or my son. Or my friends. I’m weird, which I’m sure has been established repeatedly. I think it’s just cuzz I don’t know them all that well. That and Greg’s mom is a neat freak. I, obviously, am not. Should be interesting.

While I’m waiting for them to get here, I figured I’d write something up about things that people shouldn’t do if they’d like to keep on my good side while I’m knocked up. Granted, it’s been 10 years since I’ve been pregnant, but I remember very well what used to piss me off. Maybe if I set up a reference list, I won’t get pissed as often. Then again, the simple fact that I’m compiling a list will most likely mean that everything I don’t like is going to happen at some point, and will more than likely happen often.


Anyway, here’s some things that you should avoid doing if you’d like to keep from pissing my pregnant ass off. I have a feeling that I’m not the only one that would get pissed off about some of the things I’m about to list.

~ If you don’t know me, do NOT think that it’s ok to come up and touch my belly. Yes, I know there’s a baby in there and I know that everyone and their brother wants to feel babies kick bellies. However, if you don’t know me, you shouldn’t be touching me, regardless of whether or not I’m pregnant. I would think that this would be common sense, but people tend to lose their shit when they come across pregnant chicks. It’s weird.

~ Don’t tell me how ginormous I am. Yes, I realize that gaining weight is a part of being pregnant and that I shouldn’t be upset about the fact that I’m ballooning up to the size of a grizzly bear cuzz that means that the baby is (hopefully) growing and healthy. Pregnant chicks are a different breed, though, and while they all know they shouldn’t be upset with getting bigger, they do and they tend to not enjoy people pointing their size out to them. If you’d like to tell me my belly looks cute or something like that, I can handle that. If you look at me and say, “Holy shit you’re huge! Are you sure there’s only one baby in there?” I might just beat the hell out of you. And I’d get away with it, too, cuzz hormones make people do some cracked out shit. It’d be a good idea to always remember that.

~ Don’t tell me what I can and cannot eat, drink, breath, etc. I know that smoking is bad and drinking is bad and I haven’t done either since I found out I’m pregnant. I also know that it’s important to eat healthy. If you see me somewhere eating a cheeseburger, do NOT tell me that I’m going to make my baby fat or that I’m going to give myself gestational diabetes. The same goes if you see me eating a chili dog or french fries or anything else that may not necessarily be the most healthy thing to be eating. I am allowed to give into a craving now and then. Just cuzz you happen to see me eating something YOU may not think I should be eating doesn’t mean that I eat it all the time or that I am in any way endangering myself or my baby. BACK THE FUCK OFF THE FOOD ADVICE.

~ Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do while I’m pregnant. This is a HUGE one. I am an adult and I know that I can’t do every single thing that I could before I got pregnant. That being said, I also know that I’m not this incredibly fragile thing that can no longer move around for fear that I might run into something and suddenly die. I can still attend concerts, go to the movies, go to a party, etc. (now that I’m not on bed rest anymore) without doing anything that would cause harm to me or the baby. I know enough to not jump into a mosh pit or do a fucking keg stand, so please don’t tell me that I can’t go somewhere.

~ Yes, I drink coffee. I’m allowed one cup of caffeinated coffee a day, though I stick to decaf when I drink it. I save my serving caffeine for a can of Coke cuzz I heart soda like woah. I also drink caffeine free soda and would love to not hear about all the high fructose whatever-the-fuck it has in it. I also drink shit tons of water, too, so suck it.

~ Don’t tell me that Greg should be doing more than he does for me when I whine about not having pickles or something. He works hard and he’s tired and he does what he can for me. Chances are if I’m whining about not having something, it’s not cuzz he isn’t willing to get it for me, but cuzz we just don’t have the money to get it. And if I say that he won’t drive me somewhere cuzz he’s tired? That isn’t my way of making an excuse for him being shitty and not wanting to take me somewhere. It’s cuzz he actually IS tired and I’ve decided that making him drive will probably end up with us in a car accident. That’s something I’d kind of like to avoid.

~ I want to say to not ask me how I’m doing all the time, but I can’t. I know that the asking is simple concern and there IS more going on with me than just being pregnant, so if you want to ask, ask. Just try to remember that if I say I feel, “Meh,” or, “Pretty much the same,”  it means that I’m not feeling any worse. Yes, I’m still dizzy. Yes, I’m still nauseous. Those things are probably not going away any time soon. If I sound annoyed when you ask me how I’m doing, just try to keep in mind that it’s not cuzz you asked, but more so cuzz of how I’m actually feeling. My bad.

With that, I think I’ll stop. No one’s here yet, but I have to pee cuzz that’s the only thing I do now. Yay. o_O And, no, this isn’t directed at any one person in particular. This is just my way of trying to head things off at the pass, so to speak.

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