Tummy Discrimination and Truckin’ Through Motherhood

“East bound and down, loaded up and truckin’, we’re gonna do what they say can’t be done.  We’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there, I’m east bound just watch ol’ “Bandit” run.”

- Singer Jerry Reed (lyrics from East Bound and Down from the movie Smokey and the Bandit)

Reminds me of Mommyhood.  Too much to do, not enough to do it with, but that ol’ Mommy sure does get it done!

 OK, so I have a belt buckle in the shape of an 18-wheeler.  I have had it for years and I love it.  I got it in the Central Valley when I used to live in Los Angeles and drive back and forth between L.A. and Sacramento ALL THE TIME.  I would drive for hours late at night up and down I-5 and it felt like the only people on the road were myself and my roadway brethren, the long haul truckers.   This belt reminds me of those truck drivers and that time in my life.  The above photo is my actual belt buckle when I wore it Monday.

I was feeling particularly ferosh (and trucker tough) so I thought I would do the trucker meets NY fashion outfit.  I had on my trucker belt buckle (see photo above), the latest skinny jeans with my not so skinny body (my first mistake), my Euro cool boots (see a few posts below) and my super hip white Michael Kors man’s watch that the sales girl said I needed because the man’s watch made my wrist look small…sigh.  I thought I looked edgy and hot, but as it turns out it was less hot and more hot mess!

I went in my getty-up outfit to lunch with my toddler Lucas and the entire staff at the restaurant treated us like pariahs.  I thought I had a case of toddler discrimination on my hands.  I have been reading a lot of tongue in cheek blog posts recently about toddler discrimination.  You know, when you go somewhere in public and anyone who has never had a baby or has children over the age of eighteen sees you coming with a toddler and rolls their eyes, runs madly in the other direction, huffs and puffs at the mere sight of you, or hands you some hand sanitizer and the phone number of a good nanny.  I had read about toddler discrimination, but had never really experienced it first hand.  

That was until today. 

Something was up. 

There were sideways glances from the staff, ineffective service, and almost no communication from the server, busser, or manager.  I thought they must be pissed I had a toddler with me, even though this restaurant touts it qualifications as a FAMILY restaurant and Lucas was on his best behavior happily scarfing down croutons dipped in creamy pesto dressing.  Everyone seemed to be doing the restaurant walk by and looking at our table, but not stopping.   I know from YEARS of working in the restaurant industry a restaurant walk-by when I see one.  That is where the staff  ”casually” walks by to get a look at the crazy going on at a table. 

“Go walk by and check out the _______ on table seven.”

Don’t kid a kidder, this ain’t my first rodeo sailor.  I am proficient at the restaurant walk-bys and I know when one has been put into action.

I sat there pondering what could be going on.  What was triggering off the crazy alarms to the staff?  I felt really uncomfortable and asked for my check early so Lucas and I could leave.  It was when I began to pack us up that I realized the true reason for the stares…the belly had gotten out!

Not only had the belly gotten out, but it had happened to of flopped over my 18-wheeler trucker belt buckle!

OH THE HUMANITY!   The belly had completely buried the top half of the trucker belt like it was buried in snow on top of Donner Summit waiting for the roads to clear.  You can’t even see out the windshield.   

I HAD NO IDEA!!!  My tummy turtle was peeking it’s head out from under it’s shell.  The puppy was poking out from under the covers.   The groundhog had left the burrow signifying that winter will end soon.   I was horrified!  It wasn’t toddler discrimination, it was tummy discrimination.  The restaurant staff had been cruising by to see the belly flung over the trucker belt….white trash at it’s finest.  No shame in my game, like any self respecting Mommy blogger, I whipped out my camera to take a picture.   Add that to the long list of “crazy” already going on at my table.  Can you imagine that conversation among the restaurant staff?

“That woman’s stomach was TOTALLY hanging out over her truck belt buckle AND THEN she got out her camera and took a picture of it!! OMG!”

I felt like those Hollywood starlets who get breast surgeries so intense that they loose all feeling and always seem to get photographed with their tops half way off in the freezing cold, having no idea their nipples are exposed…I am talking to you Tara Reid.  Apparently my pregnancy and BIG 9 lb. 11 oz. baby blew out the tummy so much that I now have no sensation to all the skin left behind.  Now my tummy can just flop around out in public and I have no idea.

Good times.

I thought about explaining the situation or demanding the staff  to call me in ten years after THEY HAVE BABIES and see what their belly looks like, or simply yelling out “ask your Mom about her stomach after YOU ruined her body you assholes,” but I didn’t.  I folded all of me back behind the trucker belt, wiped a tear, had a laugh, scooped up my beautiful and amazing toddler and got ready to keep on truckin’ in Motherhood…belly, baby, boys, and all.

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