Archive for October, 2010

October 28, 2010

i need mommymatch.com

i totally got hit-on by another mommy today.  not in the “let’s make out” sense, but in the “let’s be friends” sense, and i feel like i totally let her down.  she approached me at the playground and sat down, cooing about how cute my baby is (major points scored in her favor there).  “this place is great!  it’s our first time here,” which, if we’re being honest, is really just a small jump from the classic, “so, do you come here often?”  we chatted about our kids, their milestones, our challenges etcetera, just like mommies do.  “is this your first child?”  “yes.  and you?”  “no, my second.” and on and on and on, following the niceties of two strangers at a playground who know nothing about one another but who are forced to make small talk because they’re the only two grownups in the vicinity, and otherwise would just be staring off into the distance or staring at their iPhones updating their facebook statuses (statii?) about how uncomfortable it is to interact with other mommies at the playground.  “well, i guess we should be going,” she says to her daughter.  and again, “well, sweetie, we better get home,” and again, “well, we have to go get dinner started.”  i should have said, “it was so nice to meet you” and given her my name or number or email or something – afterall, i was the *experienced* mom-of-two “regular” at the playground – but i didn’t.  “i’m sure we’ll see you here again,” she said, lingering just a bit longer, “especially when the weather turns colder,” i answered.  “okay, see you later,” she said, hoisting her daughter (whose name and eating habits i now knew with deep familiarity) onto her hip and walking away.

i suck at this.  if she had given me her number i would never have called her – i don’t do phones – and then it would probably be all uncomfortable the next time we run into one another at the park.  (side note: i met most of my mom-friends AND my husband online, i apparently have a problem meeting people in person.)  if i had gotten her email address i might have emailed her, but i don’t know that i would, and i didn’t get it anyway.  i didn’t even get her name.

it’s such a weird dance, isn’t it?  this whole “let’s be friends because we’re moms but really the only thing we have in common is the fact that we both have children.”  it’s the mom club.  i’m sure she is a lovely person, she seemed quite nice, but i just don’t know what to do in social situations like this.  anyone else find this to be really awkward?  anyone else try to make friends with other strange mommies at the playground?

October 25, 2010

life lesson: chocolate and wine make you happy

i watched the woman as she walked through the grocery store.  her body language and movements were tight, in a way that suggested self-consciousness and a lack of comfort in her body.  her face was drawn and tense, she looked weary.  neither her mouth nor her eyes were smiling.  she looked to me like she needed to close her eyes and just exhale.  i peeked in her shopping cart; i admit that i always peek in others’ shopping carts because i’m insatiably curious and it provides a wealth of information about a person.  hers was mostly bare, save for a few packs of caramel flavored rice cakes, flavored seltzer water, and other Diet Foods loaded with impossible-to-pronounce chemicals unfit for human consumption.  i felt sad.

in my mind i created a story about her; always worrying about her weight even though she never really had to worry about it, preoccupation with body-image and an undying belief that her body didn’t match up to the ideal, constantly counting calories instead of enjoying life’s immeasurable moments.  it exhausts me just thinking about it.  that is certainly no way to live.  it’s certainly not the message i hope to pass on to my children, and believe me, the example i am setting for them definitely not one that endorses restriction.

i want to enjoy good wine, savor rich chocolate, delight in discovering new cuisines, dive into the bread basket, eat ice cream cones with my children, smile and laugh over a great meal with friends.  life is too short to eat crappy food.  life is too short to deny myself the pleasure of great food.  i want my kids to learn to eat right, of course, but my definition of “right” doesn’t include rice cakes and nutrasweet. but more than just eating well, i want my kids to feel well, be happy, and feel comfortable in their bodies no matter what shape they may be.

maybe i’m totally off-base in my estimation of this woman at the store.  maybe she’s joyful and carefree and is actually buying the rice cakes for a skeet-shooting adventure this weekend.  who knows…maybe the person peeking in my cart pegged me as a devil-may-care glutton for the two pints of haagen dazs i was buying.

October 24, 2010

remind me to write about this later

tons of thoughts swilling in my head about bullies, cliques, meangirls, my fear of sending my children to public school, the hopelessness i feel when i think about the state of our schools (both educationally and socially), and why i’m half tempted to home-school my kids but never actually will.  related thought: where do i find a protective bubble for my kids, and if no bubble is to be found, how do i adequately prepare them to live in this big ol’ scary world?

October 23, 2010

sleepless

oh, insomnia
why do you ensnare my brain?
every night i fight.

thoughts randomly swill,
brain races on hyperdrive
why can’t it turn off?

no caffeine past noon,
sleeping pills and more on board,
still i lie awake.

i feel like crying
or, alternatively might
pursue brain transplant

October 14, 2010

32 and still no gray hair

one of the best things about getting older is that i just don’t care what people think about me.  “who the hell am i trying to impress?” is sort of my motto these days, mostly when getting dressed in the morning (or the afternoon, depending on when i roll out of my pajamas).  but it’s not only reserved for my wardrobe.  it’s just part of the beauty of aging, i think.  i’ve long let go of the self-consciousness that rendered me paralyzed in social situations through my teens and well into my twenties.  i just don’t give a damn about what people think of me because i finally *AHA* realized that no one else is living my life so no one’s opinion but my own determines how i live my life.  this is not to say that i’m a rude ‘ol bitch, it’s not that at all.  i just love the freedom that comes with realizing that other people’s judgments just don’t bother me.

DEEEEEEEEEP  BREEEAAAAAATTTHHHH

i took my daughter to school yesterday wearing a red t-shirt with weird designs on it, a blue striped hoodie, a green knit hat complete with pom-pom and tassels, and magenta/eggplant colored shoes peeking out the bottom of my less-than-tailored jeans.  my husband said i looked cute.  i think i probably looked more like a rebellious smurf on acid.  either way, i didn’t give a rat’s ass.  i felt confident in my wacky getup and that’s all that mattered.  10 years ago i probably would have taken time to match.  now, when something i’m wearing is too matchy-matchy i cringe, thinking, “oh, no, they’re going to think that i matched that on purpose.  bummer.”

the best part of getting older is making the rules and beating your own drum.  the best part is finding out who you are, in the deepest center of your authentic self, and living it fearlessly.

October 10, 2010

silence

there’s a voice in my head and a yearning in my heart. I should write, it says. I should create ….silence…. but what? I ask. what should i write ? what should i create? it doesn’t matter, the first voice says. write just for the sake of writing, create for the sake of creating. just do it. it doesn’t matter, the second voice says. no one is going to read your words or see your creation anyway. I pause, trying to ferret out the implied meaning in the second voice’s reason.

so.

we have silence.

I have thoughts, but not sure they themselves are ferreted out enough to warrant public sharing and airing. just milling about in my head like murky wordthought stew.

so.

we have stew. and silence.