A Guest Entry By Cindy

When I’m out with the girls, I always get approached by random strangers who ask how old they are, ask whether they’re boys or girls, or tell me how cute/adorable/precious they are. Usually it’s grandma-type older women, and their curiosity is pretty benign. I answer their questions and graciously accept their compliments (“Why, yes, they are beautiful! Thank you, I think so too!”). Though sometimes I would prefer to move through the world as less of an attention magnet, I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve learned to minimize the intrusions by walking purposefully and not looking people in the eye. Mostly, people are nice when I deal with them.

Then there are other people. When the girls were about five months old, I took them out shopping for baby clothes. There was another new mom in the store with her baby as well as her mother in tow, and when we crossed paths I smiled and asked how old the baby was. She told me he was 12 weeks old, and I said, “Aww, what a cutie.” Then we went our separate ways through the store, but I heard her say to her mother, “I am so glad that’s not me.” I wish I’d had the guts to turn around and say, “Listen, bitch, I don’t need your pity. Just because you need two adults to take care of one baby doesn’t mean it can’t be done the other way around. It’s just a lot harder, and, hey, it’s made me a stronger person. A stronger person who can kick your ass!” I didn’t say anything, though. I just ignored it. I figured there was no need to start a knock-down, drag-out, no-holds-barred MommyFight in the store. I don’t know why her comment rubbed me the wrong way as much as it did, but man, it made me defensive.

I was at the mall recently to buy a new shirt. The woman next to me at the cashier was admiring the girls, and she asked me, “Is the father dark?” Uh, what? Is that supposed to mean like tall, dark, and handsome? Or is it a polite euphemism for black? Because if she meant “black” or “African-American” (to be politically correct), her attempt to be non-offensive was really offensive. It’s really none of her business what color my babies’ daddy is. I think I mumbled something like, “I guess” in answer to her question, and I just got out of there as fast as I could.

Last week I took the girls for a walk, and there was a group of women and kids standing outside one house, chatting. I stopped to say hi and introduce the girls. One of the women said she had a twin brother and was really fawning over the girls, telling me over and over how cute they were. Then she asked me if they were breastfed. I didn’t want to get into the whole story, so I just said “No.” To the other women, she said, “Can you imagine having two babies hanging off your titties?” (gesturing around her chest as she said this). I was so taken aback, I didn’t know how to respond to that. I mean, I’m no prude – I swear as much as your average trucker, but hearing “titties” in front of at least three little kids made me feel icky. I tried to wrap up the conversation after that, but before I left the woman told me that she runs a home daycare, and if I ever need daycare, just stop by! I thanked her and walked away, thinking, no thanks lady! If my kids are going to learn words like that, it sure as hell is going to be from me.

I don’t know if people will be quite so pushy as the girls get older. I hope it slows down, because otherwise I’ll have to explain to my daughters that some people are just nosy and rude. And some people are just assholes.