One of the true learned arts in life is dealing with people, and in turn the horribly rude things they can say. I seem to be plagued by these rude comments. I know I could be over reacting, and sometimes I do, don't get me wrong. The most recent comments that am I referring to are the comments about our current pregnancy.
I am sure that we are getting these because of some type of bad karma that we have circulating out there. Jake has taught me in our very short 5 years together, that when people do or say mean things to him or anyone that he loves, bad things happen to the insult giver. Jake finds parallels with the Jacob in the Old Testament, and since he has seen things happen to friends, acquaintances or people that intentionally try to hurt him by words or deeds, I have chosen to just sit as quietly as I can on his fence with him.
I come from a family with cellophane skin, but also a family that just continues to rub your nose in something. My dad's family has this saying, "He/She is so sensitive!" but this is coming from a family that can really dish out those difficult comments and makes the sensitive comment in a very mocking fashion.
So we know that we are sensitive about what other people say about the baby I am carrying. It is that delicate condition that people didn't speak of in the old days. I completely agree with the pregnancy confinement, where a woman would hide out in her house or a relative's house after she knew she was pregnant and started to show. Her swollen belly could just hang out, away from public view and condemnation from anyone who felt her "condition" was appalling in any way. If there were comments made, then she wouldn't have to hear them, or at least she wouldn't have to try to behave in an elegant manner after anyone would dare to insult her or her husband.
So yesterday I posted the good comments, and some of the mediocre comments. I am sincere when I say that I don't want a parade or a big deal made about the babies. We realize that others may not share in our joy, and that is perfectly fine. Of course we have received countless "Don't you know how that happens yet?" remarks and there really are too many of those to count. These are the "bellow the belt" barbs that have made the list, and just to amuse me in my delicate condition, please take a moment to vote on which one you think is the worst in my poll to the right side.
When I was pregnant with Fiona, Jake's Grandpa said to me at the family reunion, "What are you trying to do to that boy? Breed the brains right out of him?" (There was no laughing after this comment from the Grandpa or from me)
Jake's sister posting on Facebook: "I just found out my bro's wife is prego with baby #3! You're one kid closer to matching the Von Trapp fam buddy!"
Oh! and another one just rolled in, from another acquaintance: "Holy cow. They have triplets now."
One of her friends (who we are acquainted with) responded with: "Can you say 'snip, snip'!"
One of Jake's co-workers: "It's Mr. Can't Keep It In His Pants."
Those are the four worst ever. Since this is my little sound booth, I figured that I could vent about this. There are no wrong answers. Our fresh coat of Teflon is on order, but Jake is also checking into a system patch in order to prevent those knee jerk reactions.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the original Cheaper By The Dozen yesterday afternoon while I was folding my laundry. Mr. Frank Gilbreth is constantly bombarded by comments of strangers or people that come in to fix something at his house. The comments that people make could be considered to be rude, and the oldest daughter Andy screams at one point, "I'm sick of being a freak!" I was watching the film from a new perspective as a parent, but still sensitive to the adolescent girl who just wants to be popular. "Gee Dad, how do you ever expect us to be popular?" He says, "POPular! POPular! No one wants to be smart or clever anymore, no! they just want to be POPular!"
My favorite quote yesterday was when Mr. Gilbreth is trying to keep all of the kids quiet after a serious disagreement and a man fixing a pipe is just amazed at all of the kids. The repairman says, "Are all these kids yours, Mister? or is this some kind of a picnic." Exasperated, Mr. Gilbreth says, "They are all mine, and BELIEVE me it is NO PICNIC!...QUIET!!!!"