Pregnant Etiquette

Maybe manners are just for old church ladies. Maybe I am just hormonal. But recently, while in the 8 to 9 month pregnancy limbo, I discovered how unobservant people are about others around them. Or rather, how they choose to be unobservant.

Recently my husband and I went to Chili's for dinner with my parents. Normally, I don't like to go out at all, let alone on a Saturday night, because I know that I will either get sick from the food or that our toddler with not cooperate with the neighboring tables. And of course when we arrived, people were pouring out the front doors like college students at a frat party waiting for free beer.

I attempted to get through the bulky mass as best as I could at almost 9 months pregnant, with my toddler in my arms, my purse, her bag of busy toys, and a diaper wallet. Many people either didn't see me, pretended not to see me, or didn't care if I hit them with my purse, or worse, my toddler. I looked for my husband, who entered earlier to get on the "waiting list," which consisted of a waitress yelling out last names like a gym coach. I did not see him, so I looked for the next best thing: a place to perch.

As a busy mom, we all look for that place in any public venue where we can hide out and wait for someone, talk to our rebellious child, or search for that pacifier or book that will squelch screaming. No such oasis existed in this place; every available nook was full of warm bodies.

I put my toddler down and proceeded to take off our coats, and do what with them I do not know. All I knew was I was hot, and annoyed. I made sure to make eye contact with every person sitting in a comfortable seat or bench or nested in an intimate corner so that each would not only see that I was largely pregnant, but that I had an infant in tow. Many would not make eye contact; many were texting or looking at menus. But, not one offered a seat to me, or my toddler, whose toys were not as interesting as the bowling alley between aisles of tables through which she could play "get me."

This made me hotter.

I then crouched down on the floor to distract my toddler, while holding our coats, my purse and the changing wallet, and my bag of toddler tricks. It really wasn't long before my husband found me; he had a perch of his own in the bar area. Luckily, the bar was not part of the waiting list, so I got my revenge when I walked over to the table in the bar area, sat my stuff down, and waited for a waitress.

The prehysteric me would have been fine to wade through the mass smiling, find someone I knoiw at the bar, stand and chat, then steal a chair when a patron moved. However, the ultramom in me realized that people have no manners when it comes to women (or men) with small children, or pregnant women. Would I have been that self-absorbed? I hope not.