Hey Y'all!
Here's my story for today. Last night I went to Carrollton Station with my sister and my cousin, who is in town and has never been to the bar before. For those of you who don't know, my husband, Eric, and I own a bar in uptown New Orleans, called Carrollton Station. A place that I have frequented for years. I actually hung out there quite a bit when I was pregnant for my first child because it was the only way I could hang out with Eric, since he was always working. Of course, I wasn't drinking or smoking. I was just hanging out with friends and my husband. Naturally, people stared and whispered about the "pregnant woman in the bar". Did I care? No. Who are they? Mind your business! Pregnant women need a social life too, right? Right!
Fast forward 2 1/2 years later to March 13, 2010 (sounds futuristic, doesn't it?) I walk in to the bar with my sister and my cousin. I see 2 or 3 people that I know and talk to them for a few minutes. Then suddenly, for one stinkin' minute, I let my confident guard down and immediately feel that ALL eyes are on me, "the pregnant woman in the bar". Girls were whispering with that "OMG" look on their face. Clearly I must be there to toss a few back, right? Are they all looking at me waiting for me to order a few shots for myself? Maybe a Jagerbomb or 2. "Hey, can I bum a cigarette?" I mean really, bitches, mind your business. I'm just out with family, at a bar, that my husband and I own, and I am ordering a Sprite and cranberry juice! I'm saying all of this now, but last night none of this was coming to my head. Me, Ms. Not Afraid To Stand Up For Herself Jenny. Ms. I Don't Care What People Think Orlando. Yep! Me. Have all of the hormones wreaking havoc on my body made me an emotional roller coaster??? The answer to that is, YES! I really felt a moment (2 1/2 hours) of weakness. And I kind of let it get to me. Is it worth it? No. But in that moment of weakness I felt as tiny as a pea (insert short joke here). So I went home and went to bed. It felt sooo good to be home. I had hung out with those who are fortunate enough to still be able to indulge in an adult beverage or 2, but I longed for my bed. Zzzzz...
I woke up this morning to my beautiful daughter putting on my chapstick that I keep on my nightstand. She had a big smile on her face and gave me a giant wave hello when she saw my eyes open. I began to think back to last night and decided that all of those judgemental, alcohol indulging women and men were probably looking at me with jealousy because even though I appear to be a size "double wide", my knock off designer maternity jeans and my high heel espadrilles and cute little handbag made - me - look - FABULOUS!
Be proud of who you are, ladies, and let your beauty shine!
Jenny
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1 comment:
I had a similar experience this past summer while pregnant with Luke--at Carrollton Station, no less!
But my favorite of all the I'm-being-judged-by-other-mothers moments is when I went to the Target pharmacy looking like a hot mess. My hair was as big as Chaka Khan's, Quinn was still in his pj's and snotty-nosed with RSV, and I had a doozy of a fever blister.
I only get them once every couple of years, but it's always the same: 14, yes 14, tiny blisters form just under the center of my bottom lip then merge together to create one gigantic, chin-taker-over fever blister. Nothing works but Valtrex, yes the same Valtrex used to treat genital herpes.
So there I am in Target with my sick baby on my hip, looking like trash, and picking up my Valtrex as well as my birth control pills, and then I realize that I'm not wearing my wedding ring. This looks lovely, no? And that's when I realize the pharmacist is a girl I went to high school with, and she's giving me the holy-crap-Mindy-turned-out-just-SUPER face.
Nice, real nice.
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