I'm going back to highschool!
Let me explain: Today was son's first full day of preschool. The mommies all came 20 minutes early for pickup because the preschool teacher warned us it would be full on trauma for the kids if we were late. Judging by the haunted look in son's eyes when I entered the room I have to say the lady called it right. I thought that the mom's would be chit chatting away, making playdates and otherwise bonding while we waited. Not so.
There were maybe 3 or 4 of the 16 moms eager to make eye contact and quick with the questions. Then another small group of trendy shorthaired moms with cat's eye glasses that I thought looked super cool. They of course were cool, and therefore had no desire to mingle. See, highschool! At this point I was convinced that two of the moms were giving me evil looks. Of course I am paranoid. But I also have social potty mouth and had already responded to the very innocent question, "Will you be having a third?" with "I don't think my ass or my sanity could take it!" only to be met with a blank stare.
Someone else asked, "Do you live in Westchester (Illinois)?" "No" I responded,"Brookfield. By the zoo. We can hear the elephants sometimes at nights." Of course when I got the class roster later that day I saw that I am the only one not from Westchester. Seemingly not a big deal, but around here the towns have little rivalries. My neighbor constantly complains that "Ever since Sue (her friend) moved to LaGrange Park she's too uppity to say hello at the YMCA.". God forbid you say you are a Cubs fan around here or you will be ridden out of town on a sharp lawn ornament. And living "near the zoo" is sort of a prestige thing in Brookfield. Of course if I had explained I could also "hear the train whistling on the tracks" they would have known I was far from the fancy schmancy Hollywood section of Brookfield. (It's actually called the Hollywood section.)
Turns out a couple of the moms were giving me evil looks! I know this because our preschool is in a Lutheran church. The church my father is a minister at. The church that I don't go to except for holidays. Mom actually doesn't go either, she's a bit more mystical and would be likely to add "ess" anytime someone said "God". I'm of the faith but with no nursery and two small kids it's just not practical. We go to Sunday school and then slink off afterwards. When my father came by to kvetch with the ladies (ok we are actually Lutheran so he wasn't kvetching so much as "oy vaying" and "uffta-ing") he gave me a big hug. Out of the corner of my eye I see one of the meanie moms (as they shall be henceforth known) nudge her friend and say "That's the daughter that never comes." Son of a gun. Highschool!
All in all this was leaving me more amused than phased. That is until I got the invitation to tea at one of the preschool mom's home next Tuesday. Damnit. I had already blocked out those precious two hours for a haircut. But it's slowly dawning on me that unless we move outta town, these are the circles that I will be moving in for awhile. This worries me because I'm not good with first impressions.
For example, this morning we were running late and so I left wearing black yoga pants, a vintage tee shirt with a picture of a caulk gun that said "Don't get caulky with me!" (Oh God it's just sinking in that I was wearing that shirt) and a chipped dark purple pedicure. Frankly, I would want to know me. But I don't thing the other blow dried, make up wearing mommies felt the love. So I invented the story that I was working out while the kid was in preschool. "Yea I'm gonna work out now!" and later, "Back from working out. I know you saw me showered before but that was because I woke up and just had to shower. I'm very clean. Gonna do it again when I get back home. Yup, worked out. That's why I'm sweating." Ugrh!
Thank God I'm pretty positive son is going to be a hot guy. His dad was hot, his dad's brother was hot and I've heard that their dad was pretty smok'n in his day. I can also confirm after getting drunk with Carol that my brother in law is packing, husband is also well armed and I've seen pictures of father in law in tight 70's white jeans so I'm more aware than I would like to be that he is indeed also sporting some heft. I figure this means any ridicule I endure from now till Junior High will be quickly turned into some serious mommy ass kissing once their daughter's have picked out their Turnabout dresses.
Wish me luck!