Hola, Holiday Readers...
First, the superficial: regarding my last post, I rocked it with the two-piece bikini-bikini (not the tankini-bikini). It was fine, except for the mild sunburn on my moonlike belly. I'm not home yet but getting there, with a couple of vacation pictures forthcoming. Man oh man, how I needed this time to lie computer-less on the white beach like a lazy (bikini-clad) whale. Everybody should do it - in fact, I think we should have an agreed-upon two weeks of "blog-cation" per year, during which nobody on the planet is allowed to read or write blogs. Just imagine!
Second, the conversation of the week:
"Primero?" (pointing to belly)
Exchange of smiles.
You know, it's just one of those dang questions that doesn't have an answer - and of course I was asked it at least five times. I could go on explaining what I mean, why that question poses such a conundrum, but I know I don't have to - not with most of you. First pregnancy? No. But...first child? As in, do I have any other children? Well, si. And besides: "no" might lead to something like "how many others do you have?", which would lead to...well...you know.
It used to matter so hugely, so achingly, that others knew the full story - even innocent strangers asking innocent questions. But the need to tell all has subsided, I now know how to swallow it down and keep it there, and just give the quick-n-easy answer:
"Si. Esta mi primero."
I'm just not good at being that forthcoming. I've always known there are bigger, stronger, more in-tune-with-themselves women out there who can say more effortlessly: "well, this isn't my first pregnancy - but my other children are in heaven." I mean, how hard can that be? I envy those KuKd mommas who can intertwine past and present so seamlessly, bad with good, death with life. As for me, the few times I've tried being this honest, I wind up feeling self-concious and weird about it.
Not that I don't still crave some kind of strange cosmic "credit" for my KuKd experiences. It's like...do war veterans crave credit for what they've been through? Breast cancer survivors? Survivors of any sort? How do THEY handle their past dirt, those life-changing experiences that make them stronger and more seasoned people?
I told Kevin, life would be easier if I were a reality TV star, or even a character in a book or on the big screen. That way, I could act all non-chalant and dismissive of such questions, issuing a short-n-sweet answer of "si!" without divulging the full, multi-textured truth - but at least my audience would know the real dredges of the story. All those people watching or reading about me would think to themselves, "look how STRONG AND SELFLESS she is! How neatly and tidily she handles her problems - how she just says 'si' to save everybody face. But WE know the truth!"
I'd feel okay with that, just having a big cloud of audience following me around, knowing everything there is to know, giving me credit for stuff. In fact, we might all enjoy that - having a hovering peanut-gallery to pat us on the backs for good deeds and any sort of hardship-survival.
But heck, nobody gets that fun privelege except for...well...reality TV stars like:
Jon and Kate Who I Hate Plus Eight. Those lucky bastards!