How Big is Big

We just had the annual teacher’s Christmas dinner at my school. I had to cajole and bribe the wife with a trip to IKEA afterwards, if she tagged along. I’m not a big fan of small talk, so she’s there as my crutch. The night before, she takes out all her clothes from the closet, trying to find something presentable to wear. Of course, in the end, I’m the one who had to put all the clothes back into the closet.

Jessie: I have nothing to wear. I look fat in everything.
Me: You’re pregnant. What do you expect?
Jessie: That doesn’t mean I can’t look good. Plus, I’m really big. I’m not supposed to be this big    
right now.

I didn’t really have a response to that expect for, “You’re not fat, honey. You’re pregnant.” To be honest, I wasn’t even sure how big she’s supposed to look because I’ve never had anybody to compare her with. But if I’m to base my expert opinion on people’s reactions (eyes widening and jaws dropping) when she tells them how many months pregnant she is, then yea, she probably is a bit big for 3 months.

I confirmed my hunch this morning when I did a quick search online to see what a 3-month pregnant woman should look like. I’d say the wife’s belly is roughly double that size. Either we’ve got a future NBA hall-of-famer in there or all the gas has inflated her like a balloon. For the sake of our future financial security, I hope it’s the former.

When we get to the dinner, we sit next to a colleague of mine, who’s brought his wife and their two kids along. Apparently, the menu has been flip-flopped with dessert first and the main course last, because when they come back from the serving table, the kids having nothing but sweets stacked on top of their plates. I’ve always thought that a well-educated person should have more parenting sense than your average Joe, so this blows my mind.

Part of the program involves having teachers going up to the stage with their kids and singing a few songs together. With his two kids jacked up on sugar, the teacher heads toward his imminent doom. I cheer his kids on. This is going to be good.

Immediately, his son grabs the microphone and starts running around, screaming the words to the song. For good measure, he randomly interjects a hearty “Merry Christmas!” every couple of stanzas or so that probably shattered a few of the ear drums of the people sitting up front.

I look at the mom who shakes her head and says that her son did the exact same thing last year. I guess they hadn’t learned not to feed their kids dessert as the main dish. If anything, I’d say this kid is definitely showing some major holiday cheer. The mom’s finally had enough after two songs and goes on to the stage where she unsuccessfully chases her kid around while the other teachers and kids do their best to ignore them and continue dancing and singing.

I tell Jessie that I’m putting a ban on sweets in our house once the baby comes. However, I allow and encourage her to intake a moderate amount of dark chocolate, which can help decrease the chances of preeclampsia, a condition where hypertension arises during pregnancy, by 69%.

It’s a good thing I’m not a big fan of sweets to begin with. If our kid ever thinks about eating candy, I’m going to force him to eat so much candy that he’s going to get really sick and will never want to touch them again.

Well, now that I think about it, this doesn’t seem much different than in my younger years where we’d get really drunk, throw up, and do it all over again the next night without the least bit of hesitation. Maybe stuffing my kid’s face with chocolate bars isn’t the way to go.