It was bound to happen, or How to Ruin a Perfectly Good Morning

This morning was a little hectic, getting the kids off to school with Athena screaming nonstop and fighting every move I made (esp. putting her in her car seat). I finally got them situated at school, swung by home for a bottle of water, and headed off to NIA class. I bought a five-card class a month ago but haven't found/made the time to attend but one. Now with only five days left until we move and no weekend classes, I will probably leave one class "on the table" as they say.

I love NIA. It is a body-positive class populated by (mostly) women of all ages, shapes, and sizes. The instructor is a fortyish hard-body mama with absolutely no attitude about it. She wants you to feel sexy and have fun. I always leave there thinking, "I want to do this every day."

Today was no different. The last two songs were specific "Thank You" anthems to our bodies and our classmates/friends/community. I got up to leave feeling energized, alive, peaceful, and grateful. Then an older woman came up to me and said: "This class is the best thing you can do for your baby. It's good for you, and for the baby. I'm a nurse. Keep coming to class. It really is so good for both of you."

I shit you not, she actually said this. I smiled, said, "Thank you" and got out of there just before the waterworks began. The last hour of feeling good about my body was blown to shreds by some old lady mistaking my belly fat for pregnancy.

I'm mostly over it now, but left wondering what I'm going to say if I see her at class next week. I know she meant well, and pretty much every overweight woman I know has had this happen to them too. It was just my first time. Not something I care to repeat.