Tag Archives: embarrassing moments

Hidden Truth about motherhood # 6 No one dares to ask.

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Woman Standing on Scale

Excitement and hormones encourage the blood pumping and the race begins, when it first slows down. When she feels ready to start this stage of her life, she finds out changes take time. Her body gains weight and she looks forward to showing her baby belly, yet the weight does not give her a sweet bump but a hefty look. She feels that everyone that sees her wonders. She can almost hear their assumptions.

“She’s really letting herself go. You think she’s depressed?”

“I thought she was working out, maybe she’s not as much?”

No one asks her what is new in her life and she doesn’t feel ready to share it anyways. Some people know from experience, you never ask unless its obvious. They wait to ask when they a see a woman rushing to the hospital, doing her breathing exercises and screaming. It’s safer for them to ask between contractions than being wrong. The embarrassment alone of being wrong and offending a woman who is not expecting and is in fact overweight is enough to send some to seclusion for days. They know, you do not ask.

At this stage no one can tell except her, the one with ravenous hunger, queasiness, potential mood swings and the frustrated dresser. However, she figures a way to calm the curious by a simple gesture. She rubs her belly and rests her hand under her belly leaving the observer quiet as they see she is expecting. Even so, who dares to ask?

Grown ups don’t have fits

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little boy crying

She remembers when she saw other moms and their kids having fits at the store and saying, “that wont be me.” She has a plan, a system and a confidence that she will not join the clans of wild children and their weak moms. Her one year old begins to express his likes and dislikes and she enjoys his independence. This day follows a different routine, their normal routine does not meet the demands of the day. Her independent son shows great dislike for the errands they have to make. He turns red, throws himself on the floor, screams and flaps his arms and legs. She rushes to him and picks him up. He arches his back and she almost drops him to the floor. She runs to the car like her child could be dying and they both sit in the backseat of the car catching their breath.

She composes herself and talks with him about proper behavior. They arrive home and as she reviews her choice words in her head, she talks to him once more.
“One day you’ll be a grown up and grown ups don’t have fits.” She says to him confident that the event is over and they can enter their home in peace.
Inside by the front door a man grunts, throwing his fists in the air and clenching every muscle in his arms and legs.
“I could just punch a hole in these walls.” He throws the cellphone in his hands to the couch.
She looks down at her son who watches his dad and then smiles at her.

Author’s note: Yes, grown ups don’t have fits. Who believes that? I remember a few I had just a week ago. Sometimes life is hard and too complicated but it’s also funny to know that since kids we’ve all dealt with the things we don’t like but continue to persevere and move forward.

The spider’s monkey

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     There are situations that can paralyze a human being. Bad news, unexpected events and surprise visits result in different reactions. Some freeze, others collapse in grief, some dance or scream, but there is no other moment that can make a woman more hysterical than the sighting of a spider. From the first encounter, she can feel its hairy legs crawling on her arms, legs, hair, neck and worst inside her dress. The spider doesn’t need to move to make the woman undress in public, to jump and twirl, shaking her entire being to scare off the tiniest of spiders. It then becomes the dream of every man to have spider senses.

Author’s note: Summer can bring out the lightest of hearts and the craziest of fears in bugs. There is a bug out there waiting for you ;-). Have a crazy reaction you’d like to share? Please reply below. Enjoy the day, next week another hidden truth of motherhood.

There’s always a reason

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ready!

He came home soaked. She was wondering where he was but seeing the way he looked, she said nothing. Stained with streaks of black and white were his pants and shirt. His jacket hung loose from one of his shoulders. He let it fall on the floor as he walked straight to the bathroom.

“Rough day?” She remarks from the kitchen.

“I fell.”

“Oh I’m sorry honey, it is pretty slippery out there.” She was empathetic but the soaked look was still funny.

“Not that way.”

“What way?” She walked into the bathroom unannounced. He startled and kept cleaning the long scrapes down both sides of his body.

“What did you do?” She stared at his cuts.

“Nothing, I fell.”

“How and where? I mean did you slide down a rocky hill on your way to save the save the world or what?” She laughed a little. She tried to make him smile. He did the smile.

“Yeah, you know me. If I can’t make a good entrance, it isn’t worth living.” She smiled and helped him remove his shirt and pants. He had lengthwise lacerations on both sides of his body. She patted him down with some cotton balls and antibiotic cream.

“Ok, so are you going to tell me how it happened?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Throughout the night she came up with all kinds of stories about her husband’s obvious adventure. He ignored her for a few hours and finally confessed.

“I fell down a manhole.”

She laughed. He laughed.

“How did you do that and how did you get out?”

He explained the way he climbed out and how he fell. They had a good laugh about it, but then she paused.

“You’ll have to report it.”

“I know.”

It was the most embarrassing thing he shared the next week at his workplace. Though his body ache it was his pride that felt his pain a little more. When he came home after his report, she called him “my underground hero.” She had made him a cake in the shape of a manhole cover.

Author Note: Dare to share your embarrassing moment, it may just save another’s life.

The never ending trip

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Angry, Frustrated Woman

Every scream affects an individual differently. For one particular individual it unfolds a series of trials. The first scream stuns her, she quickly relies on a quick fix, a soother. It works except it’s not lasting. The second scream she leans forward to search in her bag of tricks any object of interest.  She succeeds but the glory fades. The next scream and she positions the advances of technology for entertainment. The interest held but for a few moments. The preceding scream and the obvious complains come to mind. Perhaps hunger or thirst are the culprits. Each remedy however produces a higher pitch. Blankets, bounces, funny faces could not stop it. She is it. The one she hoped she would never be, the mother with the inconsolable child. At this time she feels the moans of the other passengers, as she pounds her thinking cap for another idea. Nothing would work and she could not control it. Every scream increased her desire to cry and scream herself.

Have you been it too?

The mouth

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At first to impress or to continue conversation every bit of detail seems fitting. It speaks with freedom and comfort of all subjects. There is no question about consequences,  nor interpretation. Expressing honesty in its purest form is the only wise choice. There are no restraints when the heart means well.  Then, reason arrives and the words once spoken through the lips of another sound ill. All the secrets become public knowledge. A fool quick to speak becomes the shame of transparency. If only restrains came with the mouth and tongue then regret could not chase another soft heart away.

The Potato Peeler

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potatoes

“Casey can you help me here?”

Casey looks up, closes her computer and stands by the cook. The cook motions to her with her lips to the clump of potatoes on the right of the sink. She holds a chicken leg in her left hand and a knife on the right. Casey looks at the amount of potatoes and sighs.

“It’ll go quick. I just need them peeled for now.”

Casey opens one drawer, rummages through the miscellaneous items and slams it shut.

“How’s work going?”

“Its fine.” Casey keeps looking through other drawers, fanning through them and closing them again.

“That’s good.”

“Where is it?”

“Right here.” With her pinky finger the cook coils it around a slender knife and places it in front of Casey.

“What’s that?”

“The peeler.”

Casey smirks and stares at her with her nostrils flaring.

“Honey, that’s the peeler.”

“This so antiquated, how do you use this thing? Remind me to get you an actual peeler.”

Casey grabs the small knife and hacks at the skin of the potato. Every stoke stabs the potato instead of peeling it. She tries again and cuts chunks of the potatoes with the skin on them. She manages to  finish one potato and rushes to start on the other. The cook watches her while at the same time she dips the chicken legs into her special sauce. Casey slashes through the potato to her own skin. She yells, throws it in the sink and washes her hands. At the front door Miriam arrives with her three kids.

“What happened?”

Casey rushes upstairs holding her finger wrapped in tissue. Miriam removes the coats from the kids sends them off to play, kisses the cook and sees the potatoes.

“Did you get the roof looked at yet?”

“Yes, apparently it was something else. How’s Jimmy?”

“He’s fine, just a small cough.” Miriam peels every potato and washes her hands.

“Mom, Lanny needs to go.”

Miriam answers the call, walking by Casey wrapping a band-aid around her finger. Casey looks at the potatoes peeled. The cook smiles at her, but says nothing. Casey looks for another knife and slices each in silence.