When American in Norway posted an embarrassing moment and then asked for ours in the comments, I had one ready to go.
It's just too good not to share. Because I can laugh about it now. I'm still humiliated, but I can laugh.
I had just given birth to Gabi and was being asked for pictures by the multitudes. Not one to disappoint, I created an online album with pictures that started with me checking into the hospital and ended with us all back at home. Right in the middle were pictures of labor and birth that I thought I'd carefully selected.
A few years later I was looking at the album and realized that there were SEVERAL pictures that should NOT have been in there.
Like all the pictures of me topless. I must've been hopped up on some serious hormones to have included those! It wouldn't have been so bad if Gabi had been latched and hiding part of my boob, but she wasn't. Her head was laying NEXT to my boob. Okay, so not the worst thing in the world. People have seen boobs with babies before.
But then there were the pictures of me in the hospital bed after we were transferred to our recovery room, that show my BACK FAT. I hadn't brought my own nightgown, so I just wore the hospital gown and kept it untied for easy breast access. So there I am, laying in bed (in an upright position), smiling up at the camera, totally unaware that my back fat would soon be sent to hundreds of people.
It wouldn't have been so bad, with just the boobs and the back fat. But there was one other picture that slipped in, the real doozy, that looks rather innocent until you see what's smack dab in the middle.
I thought it'd be fun to show everyone a picture of my big bare belly. What I didn't see at the time was that just below my belly, was my bush, peeking up over my legs. Yep, I'd sent family and friends pictures of my down there hair.
Why oh why hadn't I seen that before? Were my eyes blurry from no sleep? Was I not paying enough attention? Did I get distracted from a crying baby?
When I'd discovered what I'd done, a whole two years later, shame and embarrassment burned through me as I sat blinking at the computer screen in disbelief. And there wasn't a darn thing I could do about it.
Thankfully, no one had said one word to me. Including some very unfortunate co-workers, who were probably wondering why I felt so comfortable sharing such revealing pictures.
You know, there's another embarrassing moment that I repressed for a long time, and recently remembered. I need to own it so I can move on.
When Gabi was about a year old, I enrolled us in a Gymboree Play class that met every Saturday.
I had just started to get to know the other moms, and was at the point where I thought I might be able to hang out with a few outside of class. Which was a big deal at the time, since I was feeling pretty lonely as the only mom in my current group of friends.
These ladies and I were sitting criss cross apple sauce in a small circle while our kids played around us. Gabi threw a ball, and, still sitting in the criss cross apple sauce position, I leaned forward to grab it. As my bottom left the ground, a terrible terrible thing happened. I farted.
And it wasn't just a tiny little fart that I could cover up. It was a very loud and powerful fart that hit the mat I was sitting on and then ricocheted off. Though, thankfully, it was short.
I sat there in total shock for a second before deciding that the best course of action was to pretend that nothing had happened. I mean, the ladies had obviously heard it, but maybe I could pretend it was my shoe rubbing on the mat! Or maybe they would be kind and just pretend it didn't happen right along with me.
The other ladies were pretending all right, pretending to be suddenly occupied with something else so they wouldn't' have to look at me. I told myself to just hang in there, that something would break the ice and everything would go back to normal.
And it might have. But then the smell hit. Once I smelled it, I prayed my little heart out that it wouldn't travel, but within seconds the mom to my left excused herself to go play on the other side of the room. The other mom very quickly followed.
And I was left sitting there all by myself trying to pretend that nothing had just happened. That it was totally normal for all the moms in the near vicinity to jump up and run to the other side of the room.
At the end of the class, the moms wouldn't make eye contact with me. No one would. Had word spread? Or had the smell? I got Gabi's shoes on and rushed her to the car. No stopping to play at the fountain on that day!
And even though we had a good 7 classes left, I never went back.