Category Archives: birthday parties
I can hardly believe that a whole year ago my teeny tiny baby was born.
Yesterday, Jack turned one year old. He’s a big boy now.
Special thanks to Jenny Schoenfeld Photography.
>I have seen a huge influx of Mommy bloggers lately and I am not one of them. I like some of them, like @redneckmommy whose blog nearly kills me with laughter. Others, who shall remain nameless, are complete idiots who make me feel like slapping them.
Aside from the fact that I have never felt compelled to limit myself to mommy or woman blogging, I just don’t fit the mold for either of those things. I don’t hang out with other mom’s and very often I find myself being shunned by the parents at my son’s school. It doesn’t help that my ex-husband is on the board and his new wife (who I love and am very grateful for) volunteers at the school all the time, while I work 12 hours a day and am not very social at the best of times.
My son’s birthday party was last week. It was at a bowling alley because both of my children have developed a bizarre need to bowl and have their birthday parties at bowling alleys this year. The party was good and the kids had a great time, but the mommy’s and my son’s teacher converged to one table and drank beer while the kids bowled. I hung back with my ex mother in law, a really cool couple and their toddler daughter, and my ex-husband’s wife’s parents.
These “mommy’s” are just bitches. Even his teacher, who was nice to me throughout the year, wouldn’t talk to me. I said “Hello” and she said “Hi” and immediately walked away. I’d like to say I don’t mind, but I do. I don’t mind for my own sake, because I’m used to it at this point, but while my kids don’t notice now, I bet they will later. Half of the women have terribly obnoxious children who I want to smack whenever they speak disrespectfully to me. I don’t understand this attitude that they have. I know that my kids don’t live with me full time or even half time. I’m divorced, that happens. It doesn’t make me any less of a caring parent. I don’t say all the nice things that these ladies like to hear. I have a brain and nothing in common with them aside from the fact that I have had children. Once we get past the birthing experience, I got nothin’.
I sat there and felt frustrated and out of uniform. The ladies, every one of them, wore capri pants and pastel tank tops with little shoes and wedding rings. I wore my standard jeans and fitted T-shirt and sneakers. I’m perpetually single. I date, of course, but marriage is not happening any time soon and even if it did, I wouldn’t be one of these ladies. They are these bizarre kind of Stepford wife clones.
My mother often says, “Why can’t you be like other girls?”
Short answer, Because I am not other girls.
I have this crazy thought that my life and the lives of the people who are taking care of them when I’m not will create a balance in the lives of my children. I hope that they see that people are all different and that it’s not a totally bad thing.
I hope that the differences in our political and religious beliefs create a balance too. They are what I would consider incredibly right wing conservative. I am not. They consider my WAY liberal. I consider myself a fan of the law and a thoughtful person. I hope that our children are exposed to all of our schools of thought and are able to make an informed and intelligent decision when it comes time to do so.
As far as the other mom’s go, I guess I can be happy that I have my youth. I also don’t drink or smoke for the most part. I don’t have food guilt at all. I don’t worry about my weight. I don’t cry myself to sleep most nights. I don’t have to be anything. The best part about being me is that no matter what I do, no one is going to look any further down on me.