I do love, well not love, but genuinely admire and respect, a pregnant belly. I will not wax lyrically about the mystery of pregnancy and blooming motherhood; it's not a mystery - it's biology. What usually happens is gametes join in fertilization process after a male and female decide to boink each other. Or sometimes this happens in a petri dish. It doesn't matter. What matters is a kid being brought into a world to be loved. Am I right, or am I right?
I am not one of these narks who complains when a pregnant celebrity wears an outfit that accentuates the baby bump. I recall Demi Moore's nude cover on Vanity Fair magazine when she was about eight months pregnant, and the ensuing controversy. I thought to all those griping: Get over it. I like stylish outfits, and some clinging outfits, that make the woman look pregnant and not like she is employed by Darrell Lea, like past some maternity frocks had the propensity to do. Who recalls the fuss and kapoo-ha when Nicki Buckley wore tight gowns in her role as hostess on 'Sale of the Century', when she feel pregnant? Some people seriously lost their shit over this. No, I'm not kidding. There was an actual controversy over it. People complaining about having to see the bump. Well, here's the thing. Sometimes women fall pregnant, and as the foetus grows in the uterus, the stomach expands, and takes up physical room, and therefore you will see it. Why is it a problem? Does the idea that someone made love with her husband and conceived a child so worm-ridden awful? Do the clowns that decried Ms Buckley's fecundity being displayed on 'Sale of the Century' also have a problem with big beer-bellies protruding from sweaty and BO-soiled blue singlets and spilling over torn King Gee shorts? I actually don't find this appealing at all. By the way, Ms Buckley is not the only woman to make an appearance on 'Sale of the Century' whilst pregnant. I did as well in 2001, when six months pregnant with my oldest child. I won my first game, and when the show went to air I was shown walking around the gift shop at the end of the episode, on host Glenn Ridge's arm, and yes, my pregnant belly was obvious. My friend's father exclaimed, 'Gawd, Simone's getting fat!', and my friend had to explain I was in the family way.
If you're wondering what's got me pondering pregnancy, and bellies, well, wonder no more. It's the Instagram post by Beyoncé to announce her pending birth of twins. Um, I'm in what appears to be the minority, which is people that just do not give a shit Beyoncé is pregnant. I feel like jumping up a la Peter Griffin of 'The Family Guy' and shouting, 'Oh my God! Who the hell CARES?' I wish her a safe and pleasant pregnancy, to be followed by a healthy successful delivery, but I really do think her announcement is over the top. Oh, I know it's her right to announce her Happy Event in any manner she so chooses provided she is keeping within the parameters of the law, but it's the narcissistic selfie (although these pics aren't strictly selfies) culture that gets up my nose. The pictures are just too contrived, with the background floral cascade, and what appears to be a bolt of mosquito netting on her head. There's no soul in the photograph. It reminds me of a really crap photograph taken of the Wales' branch of the Royal family many years ago: Princes William and Harry were probably aged eleven and eight, and they were all in traditional horse riding habits, and Prince Charles was holding the reins of some pony, and the Princess of Wales was sitting on a bench, and someone had his hand fixed on someone else's shoulder, and there was a picnic basket with a bunch of grapes spilling artfully over the side. The entire effect and tone of the photograph screamed fakery and artifice. A solicitor with whom I was then working happened to be leafing through a magazine featuring an article on the Christmas photograph (which was the occasion that brought about this woeful picture) rolled his eyes and groaned to me, 'What an awful photograph!' I agreed with him. It was so, so POSED, and the fact that it was well known the late Princess of Wales detested horse riding only added to its asinine qualities.
So yeah, I'm not liking Beyoncé's overly set-up photograph, and the associated 'look at me, look at me, look at me' that goes with these shots.
Still, it's better than that one of Kim Kardashian's big, fat, greasy arse that clogged up my newsfeed for days on end a few years ago <doing eyeroll whilst typing>.
Well, my youngest has survived his first week in high school, and earned some serious respect, it would seem. The school had their swimming carnival yesterday, and he attended. He was not a competitor, but there was some music played. He danced. The kids gave him money. He doubled what he had been given by his parents to purchase treats at the swimming pool. He was a proper Mr Bojangles, right down to the worn out shoes (his joggers are starting to get shabby). He bought his brother some lollies in a fit of generosity. They didn't even squabble over front seat rights when I collected them from the swimming pool. This is worrying, and means we have been infiltrated by spies or alien pod people who have taken the form of my children. However, so enjoyable was the peace and quiet that I will not be alerting the authorities.
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