As the sane world goes mad for the new Wonder Woman movie and Facebook posts from media sources as well as my friends laud the film, hoping and wishing that it’ll change the world, I’m here just… working and raising my kid and getting kicked in all sorts of unpleasant places by my own little wonder women-to-be.
I haven’t seen Wonder Woman. I haven’t had the time. Between moving and working and my primary baby sitters (my in-laws) having a wide and colorful variety of health issues, I haven’t been able to find one night or day to spend watching a movie that I desperately, achingly, paradigm-shiftingly want to see.
So when I do finally get to see it, it better not disappoint.
Meanwhile, as I deftly maneuver all the obstacles of daily living, nurture my son so hardcore that he actually said, “Mommy, me have big heart for you,” the other day, and try not to sprain an eyeball rolling them over whatever new physical discomfort is being used as an excuse to go to the ER instead of babysitting my child, I am HARDLY AT ALL feeling like the wonder woman that logically, I know I am.
Yeah, I looked it up on the internet which, these days, is tantamount to exhaustive scientific research, and there are lots of pregnant ladies getting kicked in the cervix so no, I’m not alone in my discomfort. But I’m willing to guess that a good chunk of those ladies don’t have quite the active job requirements I do and aren’t as miserable at having to sit them out as I am. I now run my after-school program from a folding chair. I have to stop myself from getting up to demonstrate. I have to enlist my students to remind me that chair-teaching now is better than bed rest later because at least for now, I’m present. I’m vocal. I’m helping. I’m working and earning that cashy cash I’ll need later when I can’t work at all.
But I’m super bummed to be sitting still so often.
I want to ride horses into battle in armor that shows off arms toned by a life of physical domination and general awesomeness. I want to be able to lift a sword without saying, “Ooof!” and grabbing at the stabby stab hurts of round ligament pain. I want to be a princess-turned-general too, you know!
Pregnancy sucks. Little girl, you get your parts built and come on out. Then we can ride horses into battle together!