Before I took my newborn son home from the hospital, I attended a mandatory childcare class. My fellow new Moms and I learned how to bathe our babies, how to properly diaper them (cartoon characters should face forward, tabs should be in the back), what a proper baby burp should sound like and when we were supposed to start introducing solid foods. I’m sure it was all very informative. I don’t remember much though, because of something else that was conveyed to me in that classroom.
The childcare class I attended took place less than 24 hours after my son’s birth. This is because he was born during a period of time when insurance companies could get away with booting a Mother and her baby out the door the day after a complication - free delivery. My son was born on a Friday and we were sent home that Saturday. In other words, he still had the scrunched up, reddish, blotchy face of a newborn who was delivered naturally when we attended the class. My son was also on the larger side, weighing in at close to 9 lbs at the time of his birth, and he had his father’s very full lips.
Inexplicably, all the other Moms in class with me and my son that Saturday morning so long ago, were Moms of 5 lb baby girls, each of whom had been delivered via C Section several days prior. These babies were all sweet, tiny angels wrapped in pink blankets with perfect faces that looked like little rosebuds. As we sat in the circle, all beaming with pride, the other Moms and I began fawning over the babies who were not our own. “Oh, she’s just adorable.” “Look how cute she is!” “I love that little dress on her. Look at her little button nose. She’s such a beauty!”
Every baby in that room was showered with compliments. Well almost every baby was! It went something like this:
Comment about newborn #1) “Ooooo, what a cutie!”
Comment about newborn #2) “Oh, I love that little bow in her hair. She’s absolutely adorable!”
Comment about newborn #3) “Look at her gorgeous eyes and those sweet little lips. I just want to eat her up with a spoon!”
Several second intermission from the baby love fest while the other Moms took a fleeting glance at newborn number 4, my son, then averted their eyes. This was followed by an awkward silence.
Comment about newborn #5: “Isn’t she just darling? Look at those little dimples!”
My son was actually a precious baby! He was a smiley, blond haired, blue eyed, bundle of energy who charmed everyone he met. He was cute then … (See below.)
.... and, if I do say so myself, he’s a handsome young man now. (I can’t post a current picture or he’d kill me.)
The fact that he was (and is) an attractive kid didn’t change the fact that, for a brief period of time, a handful of OBVIOUSLY BLIND (!!) complete strangers deemed him “the homely looking baby” and let me know about it. It hurt my feelings and it made me mad! I told my husband that I wanted contact info for all those people, so we could arrange to meet them several months down the road at a local playground. I wanted a recount! I wanted to line the babies up again when the playing field was a little more level... when those rosebud baby girls were no longer reaping the beauty advantages of their C-Section deliveries.
Today I had a flashback to that 1989 insult because today I was told that I (and approximately two million of my nearest and dearest) are considered to be physically revolting to the rest of the nation. Recently,
Travel and Leisure Magazine conducted a survey evaluating 30 US cities in a number of different categories. Channel 9 reported on some of the survey’s results earlier today. In terms of attractiveness, Orlandoans ranked 22nd out of 30. That means we were in the bottom 27%. In other words, the rest of the country looked us up and down, then gave us a big fat F in the looks department. (We fared even worse – 26th! - when it came to intelligence.)
I was only upset for about an hour back in ‘89, because I was too busy enjoying my little son. I knew my baby was CUUUUTE. If others couldn't see that, that was their loss.
I am not going to stew about these survey results for very long either, for the same reason. I know the stats are skewed and I know the majority of my neighbors are attractive. I mean, we’ve got theme parks here so we have real ogres in our midst. (Sorry, Shrek!) We've got evil sea witches among us- sea witches who wear too much purple eye shadow. (Not sorry, Ursula!) We've got Cruella with her two toned hair, severe eyebrows and politically incorrect Dalmation coat. These folks undoubtedly drug our overall evaluation down.
Another reason I’m going to let this go is because I know that if I don’t, I might end up with frown lines or a furrowed brow. That would only make things worse. I’ve decided, instead, to channel my energies in a more constructive manner. I’ve decided to make it my mission to add five little letters to our city slogan. Instead of "The City Beautiful", I think we should shoot for “The City of the Beautiful”.
Now while I know that everyone who is reading is already drop dead gorgeous, I don’t think it would hurt to get a little proactive here. I don't think it would hurt to stack the deck in our favor and to do what we can to take things up a notch or two before next year's survey. To that end, I think we should all call Hot Heads 407-671-0480 post haste and book appointments. That would be the smart thing to do! As an added bonus, doing the smart thing might rachet up our intelligence rating too.
