What're you lookin' at?
You'll be surprised to find out that I spent my entire day at a swim meet. Even more surprising still is that we'll be leaving the house at 6am tomorrow morning to go to yet another swim meet. I think I'm actually addicted to the chlorine fumes. That's what keeps me going. That and the concession stand. Or as Roman likes to call it, the confession stand. After eating all that garbage, one should really go and confess their gluttony.
But I'm not going to confess my gluttony as I am lacking it today. Yes, yes, your truly fat housewife is now on the requisite starvation diet. Soon, I'll just be the proverbial fat housewife. So what I'm going to confess is...
...I'm a starer.
There. I said it. I stare. I don't mean to and most of the time I catch myself. Then it turns into that awkward "where do I look" kind of thing. People with nose rings drive me mad because I wind up talking to their nose. Good thing I don't talk to myself. I have a nose ring.
And so it was, today, that I was walking around the pool deck to find the perfect place to scream, "Swim faster, ya little bastard, or I'll cut ya outta my will!" at my oldest male offspring, when I walked straight into a woman with an enormous growth on her shoulder. It looked a lot like a breast, a nice, ample, yet firm, round breast, growing straight out of her deltoid. Now that's something you don't see every day and I found myself talking straight to her delto-breast.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you..." I stumbled. "I mean, I'm... I'm... just trying to..."
Thankfully, she was in a hurry to get a lost pair of goggles onto the face of a kid just stepping onto the blocks. She didn't hear a word. But most importantly, she didn't notice that I was staring straight at her growth.
While walking away, I thought of the many times I've corrected my kids while they were staring at someone who didn't fit the typical mold. Iryna is the worst. She'll do an open mouthed gawk, craning her neck and tripping over anything that lay in her path, eyes never leaving her victim. I remind her that it's not nice to stare and that it can hurt the person's feelings.
The truth is, though, that it is human nature. We're curious, inquisitive creatures. It's in our DNA code. Integral to God's evolutionary plan. When we see something different, unusual, exotic, it holds a certain appeal to our brains. We must gather more information.
And so it is with having a child with Down syndrome. People look. Now, not so much with Kelly yet as he is still growing into his features. Although, it is slowly starting. I've noticed people look hard, or do a double take when I tell them how old he is. If I tell them he has Down syndrome, they'll examine his face closely, bending over to get a better angle. Even medical personnel.
Soon, though, we'll start getting stares. It's not like we're not used to that. We could really draw a crowd when we lived in Asia. And I do mean a crowd. Once, at a mall in Korea, the crowd got so large, that we felt overwhelmed and wound up escaping to a bathroom to hide out for a bit.... and about 20 women followed us in!
So, stares don't really bother me. What does, though, is staring without making contact, staring without a hint of a smile, staring while whispering, staring while judging. I understand why people will stare at Kelly. I find myself staring at people with Down syndrome, too. Now more than ever, in fact. I think, too, that it's far better to stare than it is to ignore. Being invisible to society is the worst kind of ostracization there is.
My advice to you, from a fellow starer and as the mother of someone stared at, is to reach out. Don't just stare, smile. Talk to the person you are gawking at. Teach your children to connect with people. Don't just tell them it's impolite to stare. That doesn't teach them anything but to turn away. People with differences know they're different. They don't need you to turn away to make them feel normal.
For my part, I try to teach my children to take it all in stride. To answer people's questions about Kelly and to try to get them as comfortable as we are with him. Other children are very interested and we've had some really great discussions. I hope Kelly will grow to become a great diplomat for the Down syndrome community. Someone who can represent without shame or embarrassment. Someone who, upon realizing he is being stared at, makes eye contact with the starer and simply says, "Hi, I'm Kelly"
Later today, toward the end of the meet, I saw the woman with the shoulder growth walking through the swimmers' labyrinth of backpacks and towels and waiting parents. I had Kelly on my hip as I walked over to her, looked her straight in the eye and said, "I am so sorry, I totally almost ran you over earlier. I was in a huge hurry to see my kid suck at his relay."
She laughed, then gave a high five to a giggling Kelly and said, "He's adorable. What's his name?"
There we stood and gabbed, just two women admiring a beautiful baby boy. Because that too is just human nature.
But I'm not going to confess my gluttony as I am lacking it today. Yes, yes, your truly fat housewife is now on the requisite starvation diet. Soon, I'll just be the proverbial fat housewife. So what I'm going to confess is...
...I'm a starer.
There. I said it. I stare. I don't mean to and most of the time I catch myself. Then it turns into that awkward "where do I look" kind of thing. People with nose rings drive me mad because I wind up talking to their nose. Good thing I don't talk to myself. I have a nose ring.
And so it was, today, that I was walking around the pool deck to find the perfect place to scream, "Swim faster, ya little bastard, or I'll cut ya outta my will!" at my oldest male offspring, when I walked straight into a woman with an enormous growth on her shoulder. It looked a lot like a breast, a nice, ample, yet firm, round breast, growing straight out of her deltoid. Now that's something you don't see every day and I found myself talking straight to her delto-breast.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you..." I stumbled. "I mean, I'm... I'm... just trying to..."
Thankfully, she was in a hurry to get a lost pair of goggles onto the face of a kid just stepping onto the blocks. She didn't hear a word. But most importantly, she didn't notice that I was staring straight at her growth.
While walking away, I thought of the many times I've corrected my kids while they were staring at someone who didn't fit the typical mold. Iryna is the worst. She'll do an open mouthed gawk, craning her neck and tripping over anything that lay in her path, eyes never leaving her victim. I remind her that it's not nice to stare and that it can hurt the person's feelings.
The truth is, though, that it is human nature. We're curious, inquisitive creatures. It's in our DNA code. Integral to God's evolutionary plan. When we see something different, unusual, exotic, it holds a certain appeal to our brains. We must gather more information.
And so it is with having a child with Down syndrome. People look. Now, not so much with Kelly yet as he is still growing into his features. Although, it is slowly starting. I've noticed people look hard, or do a double take when I tell them how old he is. If I tell them he has Down syndrome, they'll examine his face closely, bending over to get a better angle. Even medical personnel.
Soon, though, we'll start getting stares. It's not like we're not used to that. We could really draw a crowd when we lived in Asia. And I do mean a crowd. Once, at a mall in Korea, the crowd got so large, that we felt overwhelmed and wound up escaping to a bathroom to hide out for a bit.... and about 20 women followed us in!
So, stares don't really bother me. What does, though, is staring without making contact, staring without a hint of a smile, staring while whispering, staring while judging. I understand why people will stare at Kelly. I find myself staring at people with Down syndrome, too. Now more than ever, in fact. I think, too, that it's far better to stare than it is to ignore. Being invisible to society is the worst kind of ostracization there is.
My advice to you, from a fellow starer and as the mother of someone stared at, is to reach out. Don't just stare, smile. Talk to the person you are gawking at. Teach your children to connect with people. Don't just tell them it's impolite to stare. That doesn't teach them anything but to turn away. People with differences know they're different. They don't need you to turn away to make them feel normal.
For my part, I try to teach my children to take it all in stride. To answer people's questions about Kelly and to try to get them as comfortable as we are with him. Other children are very interested and we've had some really great discussions. I hope Kelly will grow to become a great diplomat for the Down syndrome community. Someone who can represent without shame or embarrassment. Someone who, upon realizing he is being stared at, makes eye contact with the starer and simply says, "Hi, I'm Kelly"
Later today, toward the end of the meet, I saw the woman with the shoulder growth walking through the swimmers' labyrinth of backpacks and towels and waiting parents. I had Kelly on my hip as I walked over to her, looked her straight in the eye and said, "I am so sorry, I totally almost ran you over earlier. I was in a huge hurry to see my kid suck at his relay."
She laughed, then gave a high five to a giggling Kelly and said, "He's adorable. What's his name?"
There we stood and gabbed, just two women admiring a beautiful baby boy. Because that too is just human nature.
posted by The Histrionics of a Fat Housewife at 11:38 PM
2 Comments:
Love this one the bestest, so far! My large ass gets stares every time it dares to waddle out in public. Starers are often startled when I start a conversation. But, what else ya gonna do, huh? ♥
Yup i can relate. I find myself staring at breasts too even if they aren't of the delt-eminating variety. But you've given me inspiration. Next time i will introduce myself to them. I mean the owners.
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