You got it....a bull ride. About anything else I can top. WITH. EASE. We had our Halloween party yesterday at school, and that went well. HH came in and brought the spider cupcakes, we had ghetto fabulous Annie's pizza, and watched a movie. What disturbed me happened after lunch.
Haley comes up to me, "Mrs. F, I need to talk with you." I tell her that we can talk, but it will be a few minutes, because I need to get some things settled, etc. She says ok. I'm prepared for many things that the kids say, after nine years, but surprise came with this one.
"Nyelah and Tyevon were talking about whether or not you were pregnant." YEAH. I was hit like a landslide with this one. I wasn't expecting it at all. I thanked her, and tried to regain my composure. I do have a pudge in my front, that is NOT going away unless there is plastic surgery. I don't suck it in all day, so I'm certain that at times it looks worse than others throughout the day. Even though the comment was from an eleven year old, it still hurt. I dealt with the issue, and all is well for the kids involved.
HH and I went in costume to our friends Alex and Rachel's house. We had great food, conversation, and played a cool nintendo type game called "Buzz." On the way home, I told Ben that I had pretty much hit an emotional low. I told him about the whole story.
One of the biggest things running through my brain was how in the world are they wondering if their teachers are pregnant in the fifth grade? I don't even think that thought crossed my mind until I was at least in high school. HH simply explained that by saying that in their world pregnancy is so common, they almost come to expect it. If someone puts on a little bit of weight, that is the natural conclusion. Amidst all the tears, that explanation did make sense to me.
I said a lot of things last night, and realized that the pain I have from being so fat goes back very deep. One thing I said was, "I feel more like a freak now, than I did as a four hundred pound person." "In my quest to become normal, I find that normal becomes more and more elusive." HH really soothed my soul with his words.
I now own two pairs of Not Your Daughter's Jeans. One is a size 4, the other is a size 8. I did a comparison of them last night, and they are the EXACT same size. The cut is not even different. Women's clothing companies suck.
Off to do my last GED Saturday class!