Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Babies and Strangers

Ever since I have become pregnant and have had two children I have noticed a very peculiar trend... You could be in the store, you could be working, you could be walking down the street, you could be in a public restroom, you could be attending a conference at your child's school, really no matter where you go, strangers are drawn to you and your pregnant belly or your child like a moth to a lamp. It's the oddest thing. It's like once you become pregnant or once you become a parent, there is no social etiquette for strangers and how they look or what they say to you and your child...

Now, I'm not talking about the random people who come up to you and say, "Aww. How sweet. A newborn. How old are they?". Or those people who tell you, "Wow. Your daughter has such beautiful hair!". Those are welcome comments. It's endearing. I often do it myself. Babies, kids, even preteens sometimes, are just so darn cute that you have to say something. I get that. It's sort of normal.

What I am talking about, and what perpetuated this blog/rant, is this type of stranger...

Last week I was grocery shopping with my husband, my daughter, and my son. My son, who is going to be seven months, had a wet diaper and didn't particularly like it. So I grabbed my diaper bag and headed off to the Stop and Shop bathroom. Luckily it had a changing station (don't even get me started on how many family restaurants and places don't have them at all). I whipped out my changing pad, diaper, and wipes, and got to business. When I change John, or even when I help Amelia get dressed, I talk to them. It's natural and keeps them occupied during an otherwise boring, mundane task. So, there I am, taking off John's diaper, and babbling on when an old woman (who just finished her own business) waltzes over and starts talking to me and my baby. She's asking how old he is, saying how cute he is, telling me about her great grand kid who's the same age. She's going on and on.

I know that she's someone's mom and grandma, and she's probably very nice. But, my son is naked on a changing table. Plus, I'm trying to chat with him and keep him from wanting to roll right off the table. And this lady is talking to me like she is my best friend and like it's completely normal for her to be doing so while I'm wiping my baby's butt. Well, it's NOT normal...

I respect the fact that she thinks my kid is cute and all and that he reminds her of her grandchild, but it's weird for you to be talking to me and my baby while I'm changing him. His privates are out for the whole world to see. I have my hands preoccupied. It's not natural to be talking to a complete stranger during this whole process. It's like strangers think that because it's a baby anything goes... 

Well, let me ask you this? Does my baby barge in on your closed stall door while you're sitting on the toilet doing your thing? Does my baby have full conversations with you in the bathroom? Are you sitting there exposed for the whole world? I'm pretty sure we can all agree that the answer is NO! Thanks for the sweet compliments, but please let my baby get changed without having to worry about complete strangers staring at his naked body. I have never done this to another parent. No matter how cute their child is or what they are doing. Even before I was a parent I didn't do this. It's just not normal. It's not a proper social custom. Just because they are tiny, cute, and innocent, doesn't mean that we get to treat them differently.

But, people talking to me while I'm changing my baby is nothing. With Amelia I have heard so much more. Things that you just don't ask strangers. Things that are rude. Or hurtful. And just plain crazy.

A good example is a few months after Amelia was born. For those of you who didn't see Amelia as a baby, or those who don't remember, she was born with a fairly large, very red, strawberry birthmark on her head. It was pretty noticeable since it was just above her forehead and was one of the first things you saw when you looked at her. It didn't bother me, or her for that matter. It was normal. In fact, I forgot it was even there after the first few months. But complete strangers noticed...

We were walking in the mall with Amelia when she was just a few months old. We were just getting onto the elevator and a middle-aged man stepped in right after us. He was looking around the elevator and saw Amelia. He said, "Oh. She's cute." We said the customary "thank-you" thinking that was the end of the conversation. We were wrong... The stranger them looked a little closer at her forehead and asked, "What's that red thing on her head? Did you guys hit her?"

I FREAKING KID YOU NOT! SERIOUSLY?! I honestly don't think I will ever forget this particular incident. SERIOUSLY! This dude, a complete and total stranger, just asked me if I beat my child. Not my child, my INFANT! There are so many wrong things with this situation that I don't know where to start. First off, it's rude of you to even mention the mark on my daughter's forehead. You don't know where it came from, you don't know my family, and you're a stranger. It's none of your damn business. Second, you just accused me of beating my child. I'm gonna leave that one alone because it's both ridiculous and infuriating. Third, even if I did beat my child, would I tell a random person?! Ummm... probably not. And just for the record, I did NOT beat my child. Nor have I ever. Once again, this is a case of social "rules" gone wrong. Just because she is a baby, doesn't mean that you can ask anything thing you want. It's rude. So, just shut up.

And speaking of Amelia, I still get this one to this day! And it's soooo annoying and tiring to answer over and over again...

My husband and I both have dark hair and relatively dark eyes (mine are brown and his are hazel). So naturally, when I was pregnant I always imagined having a dark-haired, dark-eyed baby girl. But, when she popped out, she was blonde as could be with the bluest eyes. I was pretty shocked. But, she was (and still is) beautiful, and I shouldn't have been that shocked. My mom's hair was so blonde when she was little that it was almost white, my sister is a natural dirty blonde, and all my cousins have blonde hair. It's genetics. 

But ever since she was a baby, and to this day, everywhere we go we get asked the same question, "Where does her blonde hair come from?". Really?! I get the compulsion to ask. We all have dark hair and she doesn't. It's different. But one, it's not unheard of. And two, you honestly don't know why she has blonde hair and your question could just as easily offend me and my husband. What if she was adopted? Wouldn't you feel terrible asking us that? What if someone I know passed away and their daughter was left to me and my husband to raise? Wouldn't that bring back bad memories for us? What does it matter if you know where her blonde hair came from? 

It's pretty rude to ask this question. You don't know the reason why and it shouldn't matter to you anyway. Just say my daughter has pretty hair and move on. This question has tired me out so much that I have begun to be creative about my answer to it. "Where does your daughter's blonde hair come from?" "Oh, my husband and I are swingers and had an accident." "Why does your daughter have such blonde hair?" "She really belongs to the Edible Arrangement's guy." These are just a few of my creative answers... I have said all these and more. Because if you think you can come up to me and ask a random, crazy question, then I can tell you some random, crazy answer. Plain and simple.

Even going back to before Amelia was born and when I was pregnant, strangers have NO boundaries. If you have ever been pregnant, and that belly starts to show, you know what I am feeling. You are standing in line at the grocery store, waiting to check out, your feet are swollen, the store is overcrowded, and you just want to get home and eat that pint of Ben&Jerry's with your feet propped on the couch, and suddenly you hear it. The lady behind you says, "Oh, you're pregnant. When are you due?" You rattle off an answer and then there it is. Slowly the lady is reaching out to you with her grubby paws trying to feel your belly. Ahh! No thank-you!

Just because I have a tiny human growing inside my belly and it's visibly obvious, doesn't mean you get to touch it. It's my belly. It's my baby. And once again, I DON'T KNOW YOU! Just because I am pregnant doesn't mean that you get to throw all social boundaries out the window and touch my belly. I don't touch yours, please don't touch mine. Unless I know you, and even then, only if I invite you to. It's just weird.

Ok, I think that pretty much sums it up. I know this is kind of lengthy and a little whiny, but it's so true. If you have ever been pregnant, if you are a parent, or if you are going to be, you know that you have had all these thoughts and encounters and more. It's the truth. So if you are a stranger, just back off. And think before you open your mouth. That's all. Babies and pregnant bellies are adorable. But that doesn't mean that they don't get the same respect as you or I. 

End of story.

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