True Story, I was pregnancy shamed

This past weekend I was pregnancy shamed. Allow me to explain. You may have heard of slut shaming or fat shaming, but rarely do you ever hear of people saying they were pregnancy shamed. Hubby and I went to Houston this past weekend for a baby shower. It was indeed a most enjoyable event! The last guest departed the baby shower at 1:00 am! Yes, I am a party animal.

My day started out normally, as any other day. I got up, ate an emergency breakfast (emergency because ever since I got pregnant, I have to have something in my stomach or else this baby becomes a monster). After eating breakfast and talking to some of my family members, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready to hit the road back to Arkansas. It was extremely hot, so I picked a maternity dress that was a light and stretchy material. My stomach has gotten bigger so the material accentuated and clung to my stomach. This is the one feature that I liked about the dress because it allowed me to show the evidence of my soon to be baby Diva. I met my little sister and she complimented me on the dress; it made me smile. As I made my way down the stairs, I became aware of the distressed looks I was getting from some of my relatives. The incessant chatter ceased and the room fell quiet. I felt weird but thought I was being paranoid. I made a mental note of how I had checked and double checked my appearance before going down the stairs. So why the weird vibe? At last, one brave soul ventured out to tell me they thought it was best to go back upstairs and change. I asked if she could see my underwear or if the dress was too short. She said no, but that the dress was not appropriate for me to wear. One of her cohorts further explained that the dress would be good for someone who did not have curves, someone tall and slender. She also stated that the dress made me look more compact. I was not satisfied with this explanation. My older sister piped up and asked me to turn sideways because she wanted to see baby Diva in her full glory. She did not seem to have a problem with my outfit.

Hubby loaded the truck and we got ready to speed off to the redneck highway (remote windy two lane roads) to our beloved El Dorado.  As we approached the truck my relatives kept pressuring me to go change prior to my departure. I finally asked why they found this dress so offensive. Finally, one of my shamers stated, “well, the dress would not look so bad if your stomach was not so big...you know if your stomach was smaller.” After picking my jaw off the floor, I mounted the waiting truck and sped off.

Dear reader: I. AM. PREGNANT! Yes, my stomach is big…like a mini beach ball or a round, smooth extra-large bowling ball. It is big and round, like a perfectly shaped dome. It is also beautiful and exquisite; it is carrying life! I could not help but wonder why two women who have had children (emphasis on CHILDREN) felt it was ok to shame another woman because of her glorious pregnant belly. I wasn’t being told to change because my outfit was too provocative, but because of my protruding belly. My big pregnant belly was making them uncomfortable. As our truck carried us up home, I wondered, how can a pregnant woman make her stomach less conspicuous? Should I wear Moo-Moo’s for the rest of the pregnancy? I wistfully turned to my hubby and asked him if he thought I should cease wearing the offending number. He lovingly looked at me and smiled. Then he reassuringly answered, “no babe, your outfit is great, you look beautiful.” With a huge grin on my face, I turned and looked out the window to watch the trees pass in a blur and make our way a little closer to Arkansas. 

Slut shaming, fat shaming and now pregnancy shaming, what has the world come to?

Have you ever been shamed?   

Small Town vs. City Life

Hey Lovies! Sorry I have been away for such an extended period of time. I know that you missed me (don’t lie, you have been waiting for a new post with baited breath.) I have an excuse (hides head in hoodie). I have been fighting sharks! Ok, maybe not real sharks. I have been fighting the sharks of everyday life! I embellish just a little bit, I have not been as busy as I let on, I have just allowed myself to enjoy being in the moment. This past labor day my older sister and my baby sister (she will always be a baby in my eyes) made the eight hour trek to small town El Dorado, Arkansas to let me see my awesome two month old nephew (I am an aunt y’all!) He is super adorable. After the trip I asked my city dwelling baby sister aka Sophisticated Socialite what she thought of small town Arkansas.Yes, believe your eyes, my very first guest post! She sent me her thoughts on Small town living vs. City life that I felt inclined to share with you, my faithful readers!

Small Town Living vs. City Life

Guest post by Sophisticated Socialite

Yes, I’m a city girl and I love it. I think. You know, apart from the traffic, strange people coming up to you at 11 o’clock at night asking for some change and the extra-long lines in the drive through of every fast-food restaurant at lunch time. Truth be told the city may be over populated, but it still has a certain pull to it. I love that I can drive literally 4 miles to the nearest grocery store or find at least 5 things to do if I have no plans for the night, not to mention all of interesting people you are bound to meet.

City living may taking adjusting to, but in my opinion the pros outweigh the cons. I just recently went to a small town (meaning El Dorado, Arkansas) to visit a family member of mine and got a little taste of small town life there. I must say that I was impressed with all of the green trees I saw while I was there. If my nose could talk it would have whispered “thank you” within the first hour. Out in the country life is calm, quiet and humbling. It allowed me to step back and appreciate the simple pleasures of life and my surroundings. I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing nature until it was right in front of me. I think this is one of the biggest differences from living in the city for me. In the city everything can be so fast paced you hardly have time to step back and enjoy the beauty of your surroundings. Oh yeah and the stars (hadn’t seen them in months).

Either way, I don’t believe one is better than the other. I believe what it all comes down to is personal preference, which is subject to change throughout our lives. People may have their different reasons for preferring one over the other. As for me, I guess I’ll be a city girl until life says otherwise!

Are you a city dweller or do you relish small town living? Let me know, leave a comment!

Defending Kim Kardashian

Defending Kim

I woke up this morning and the world was abuzz with news of the Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphreys split. After the much televised and gossiped about wedding took place, there was nothing left for the world to do but speculate about the couple’s impending divorce and wish them the worst. When they were together, everyone rooted for them to fail. When they finally did split up, instead of the naysayers breathing a sigh of relief, they seem to have unleashed their rage against Kim. Having so many people speculating why they were together and why they had a lavish wedding, could anyone expect them to make it? I am shocked and would like to address two issues that I have with everyone’s response: 1.) Marriage is a covenant between two individuals, why is Kim the bad guy?, and 2.) It’s Kim and Kris’ marriage, how does its dissolution affect the world?

Marriage is a covenant between two individuals: why is Kim the bad guy?

A majority of the tweets, facebook status updates and blogs have been slamming Kim about filing for divorce. Some seem to paint her soon to be ex-husband as being duped into proposing to her (the man-eater). Last time I watched “Keeping up with the Kardashians” it was Kris Humphreys who got down on his knees amidst a room lined with candles and a rug littered with rose petals to propose Kim. Having been around her and her family, I am sure he knew very well what he was getting himself into. He is 26 years old and, even if he was beguiled by the charm and the money, he had a chance to back out; he did not. I do not consider myself a feminist by any means, but it saddens me to see that the woman is once again being blamed for the breakdown of a marriage. Granted, the sacred marriage lasted only 72 days, but why is she automatically the villain? That being said, I have heard nothing but negative comments about the Kardashian-Humphreys marriage from inception. I don’t propose to know the girl, but from watching shows and reading about her, perhaps they both fell fast and madly for each other but did not have the support system to honestly tell them to slow down and keep their feet grounded. With a mother who practically pushed her to the altar, it’s no wonder the couple did not take time to know each other.

I can attest that marriage is a good thing, AND I can also say that marriage takes work, patience and teamwork. Not every tingling feeling is love and even love if not properly fed and nourished dies. I also don’t think we should judge Kim and Kris since we don’t know what led to their “irreconcilable differences.”  Would the world still react harshly towards her if we discovered other details that would have led an average newlywed to file for a divorce? By shunning and prejudging her so publicly, are we sending a message to our youth to simply “grin and bear it?”

 72 days may be short for most individuals, but depending on what they were going through (i.e., domestic violence), it may be exactly enough for a party to ascertain the need to get out. I support the institution of marriage; therefore, I think it would have been worse for the young couple to stay married for the sake of saving face. I also caution people to remember that both Kim and Kris are people, and a barrage of words, even from strangers, can cause a world of hurt.

It’s Kim and Kris’ marriage, how does its dissolution affect the world?

I have read threads that range from people feeling emotionally betrayed, citing the wedding and nuptials as a sham, to expressing outrage at the amount of money spent on the wedding. My take on it is: Why does it matter? How can anyone derive any form of satisfaction from two individuals divorcing? If people felt so passionate and adamant against the couple getting married, why did they not try to do something about it before they said “I do” (i.e., send Kim or Kris a warning tweet)? Now that they are headed towards splitsville, everyone feels the need to tweet and retweet the announcement that the couple is calling it quits. For those who expressed shock at the amount of money spent on the wedding, well, it’s what they wanted, AND no, that money could not have helped the orphans in Somalia, Tajikistan or wherever remote place that people are starving, because it would have probably been spent on something else. To those who point and wag their fingers about what the couple is teaching our youth I would say, the lesson begins with you. If you, or anyone for that matter, are letting our youth learn important life lesson from reality TV shows, I would say hie thee to the nearest Big Brother Big Sister, Boys and Girls Club, Boy Scouts of America, Girl Scouts of America or the local YMCA.  Finally, for those fans who feel hurt and betrayed that the couple is splitting, you may have been “there” when the cameras were rolling (notice the sarcastic quotation marks), but you certainly have not been a part of the marriage after the cameras stopped rolling. It is only news because we make it news. If it indeed was publicity stunt (which I highly doubt), then they have succeeded in their ploy. I urge you to take a chance that it was not a publicity stunt. In that case, we should put ourselves in their shoes and let them go through their season with dignity.

The feast

I went to lunch with two older gentlemen and it was the best lunch I have ever had. Because of the two extraordinary gentlemen, an ordinary lunch was transformed into a feast before my very own eyes. At first, I was very nervous: it was an establishment that served food buffet style and I was scared once they saw the “feeding”, they would run to the Sebastian county line and never look back. Since I have embarked on my campaign to be a bold woman, I never know how people will perceive me and I wanted to make a really good impression, after all I am a lady!

You may be curious as to what the aforementioned “feeding” is, and I will gladly tell you. You see Reader; I was born with a voracious appetite that has intensified with the passing of time. I attack my food and dive into the buffet with my entire being. When I see a buffet, it’s like a lion seeing a herd of gazelles sprinkled with seasoning and tied to a tree near a big lake. For me, buffets mean all you can eat, even if you get sick later. Normally this would not be a problem as my husband and I are molded out of the same clay (I knew he was truly my soul mate after a trip to a local buffet establishment. I think the entire restaurant was scandalized at our zeal, and perhaps slightly disturbed at my excited utterances and motions every time I discovered something I thought my husband would enjoy).  In fact we encourage each other and share the same passion for food.

As the two gentlemen approached me, I experienced a wave of calmness. I felt like I was reuniting with old friends. I thought of my impending move and felt a slight pang; if only I had met them sooner. We started off with small talk and by the end of my first plate I was guffawing in between fork bites of assorted deserts. Time stood still amidst the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I was transfixed as if spellbound by each statement the gentlemen made. At first I catalogued pieces of our conversation, eager to share it with my best friend when I got home. Finally, I gave in and immersed myself in the moment, in the words and sentences. The ordinary mixture and jumble of different foods on my plate became small portions of intensely delicious flavor pockets to my palate.

My dear reader, the two gentlemen completely differed in looks and mannerisms, but they both spoke to my heart. They were both my seniors by some years, but for that one hour and a half none of that mattered.  One was animated with slightly long salt and pepper hair. He was jovial and had a glint in his eyes that hinted at being mischievous in his younger years. He had a smile that made you forgive him before he even confessed his transgressions.  His eyes lit up every time he prepared to tell a joke, and true to its promise, I had a fit of laughter every time. He spoke with his body; making motions with his hands and his words painted a picture before my eyes. The other gentleman was exactly that, a gentle man. He was tall and thin with short salt and pepper hair. He had a gentle yet shy smile. His glasses made him seem intelligent, analytical and self assured. His eyes were friendly and revealed a kind soul with each glance. Each time he smiled, a secret was passed between us, yet his calm demeanor did not reveal it even to me. Like a flutter of a butterfly’s wing, his voice was always one octave above a whisper and if you did not pay attention an entire conversation could be missed.  Although he did not say much, his presence commanded attention. When he opened his mouth to speak, his soft voice was warm apple cobbler, tangy lemon cake and chocolate covered strawberries. He sat very still and did not move as he spoke, but he laughed with his entire body. Throughout the course of our conversation, they asked me questions and greeted my answers with nods and smiles that seemed like they already knew the answers, knew my life and knew my soul. 

Afterwards, I was giddy with excitement. With my heart beating wildly against my chest, torrents of waves and emotions going through me, I rushed home to my Love so I could gush about my wonderful experience, about my new found friends, and about my delicious midday feast.