Monday, April 16, 2007


I am up at 7:30 this morning and I already have a huge knot in my stomach. Today is the day. The day I go and meet other moms for a book club meeting/playdate for out kids. I was a wreck. It probably doesn't help that I had finished the book at about 1:30 last night.

I don't know what to wear. I assumed a shirt of some sort would be ok but maybe not. I haven't really been in a setting like this in a while, maybe the hip thing to do is to go topless? Maybe I should show up topless and see what the general reaction is? No, a shirt is the way to go. Maybe the one I own that didn't come off the clearance rack at Target? Yes, that's the one.

I brush my teeth twice. Once before I eat and once after. I don't eat too much though in case there's food there. I don't want to offend anyone by not taking what they eat. I debate for a long time about exactly how much to have for breakfast.

What should Elle wear? She's lucky. She looks cute in everything. She screams at me while I srpay her head to get it wet and make all her curls pop up. I wish it was warmer so that I could put her in one of her new sundresses. Crap. Well, she still looks cute in her jeans and new t-shirt. The curls help.

I leave the house a little later than I wanted to. I've remembered everything. That never happens. I feel good. Shit. I forgot the piece of paper that had the address I'm going to on it. It's ok, I've been there twice before, I should be able to find it again.

I'm only a minute late. There are 3 large SUVs in the driveway of the house. I'm suddenly, painfully aware that my car needs to be washed and has crackers ground into the seats and floor. I check myself out one final time in the rear view mirror. I have a giant boogie in my left nostril. How did I not feel that in there?

We walk in the door, everyone looks friendly. They're all wearing shirts (phew, I made a good choice) and shoes as white as snow. My shoes are brown. I kick them off by the door to hide them. I remember that my socks don't match. No one's looking at my feet anyway. They're all watching Elle shriek in terror. I don't know why she's screaming and when I try to comfort her she wipes thick, yellow snot all over my shoulder and in my hair.

Everyone at the get together has matching 3 year old boys and matching white shoes and matching hairdos. Half up, half down. I worry that my hair (down for once) looks frizzy and stupid. I worry that I look stupid with my snotty shirt and my mismatched socks. Everyone is very nice and comments on how cute Elle is. They're being very kind. Elle has a red face, a snotty nose and weepy eyes. Even I don't think she looks cute.

Elle calms down. The boys play upstairs and Elle wanders around the living room chirping happily to herself. She's being very good now. I don't feel so stupid now because just being around her turns me into Proud Mom.

We discuss the book a little bit but mostly the women gossip about their lives and the lives of some of the other mommy-groupers that aren't there that day. I realize that at some point I've put my hair up. Half up, half down. I don't even remember doing it. I glance over to where my shoes are to see if they're still brown. I have a cookie.

Elle finds a crayon and draws on the kitchen floor. I'm embarassed that Elle has singlehandedly caused more damage to the house than the entire herd of matching boys. The hostess laughs and says "It's ok, this is a kid-friendly house." She gets Elle some colored paper. If coloring on the floor makes a house kid friendly then my house is the friendliest son of a bitch you've ever seen. (Note Elle's artwork from our living room floor.)

I'm a little let down that after staying up so late to finish the book we don't even discuss it for 10 minutes. The matching boys all want to go outside to play. Out we go. I can't get Dick in a Box out of my head.

The moms all stand around in a group and chat. They are all wearing matching sunglasses and matching coats. I didn't bring a coat for myself. It's not really cold anyway. The boys play happily while the moms talk. I can't really join in because I have to follow Elle around make sure she doesn't get hurt. The backyard is great, with a big sandbox and swingset and creek running along the edge. Wonderful for a herd of matching boys. Not so great for a toddling girl with hair that glows like fire when she's out in the sun.

One mom leaves because her older son's adnoid surgery is in an hour. (Why was she at a playdate when her kid was getting prepped for adnoid surgery?) I take that as a chance to leave too. Elle is covered in sand and has gone down the slide 8001 times and she needs a nap.

I tell everyone it was nice to meet them. I don't remember any of their names. I'm somehwat relieved to drive away but I know that I'll come again if I'm invited. I need to know more moms.

Mommy-groups? Not for sissies.


Ferdinand the Duck said...

Groups of strangers are terrifying, especially when they all know each other and you don't know anyone. Strangers + their children = a nightmare I've had many times.

CamiKaos said...

It would seem there could possibly someday maybe be a more civilized way to get to know other mom's than the mommy group. All the matching shoes and hair, it's something that never worked for me... I hope if you do it again you still wear brown shoes and are less terrified of what they think of you, you sound fab.

Anonymous said...

Ahhh, welcome to the wonderful world of playgroups. Fasten your seatbelt, the playground politics can get a little hairy at times!!

Nauntie Lush said...

Um, been there done that. Dropped out after realizing that I couldn't take the crap that the mom's were dishing out anymore. (ie older son being prepped for surgery and you are at a playdate) I hope it works for you. I really do. At least you can blog about it all....

Jenny, the Bloggess said...

1. I can so relate to this I can't even think straight.

2. This was featured on GoodMom/BadMom so get down with your bad self.