I feel like I'm always sitting here talking about how life has changed since becoming a mommy.
If this bores you, then I apologize in advance. Wait, never mind no I don't.
See that? That right there is exactly what I am talking about. Back in the day I didn't give an eff about what people thought of me. Back before I had these tiny humans, I used to be confident and sure of myself. I used to laugh at myself way more. I used to accept myself for who I was.
I used to be secure in who I was.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not on some type of self-loathing, woe is me bender of sorts or anything, but I really feel like the gift of parenting has stripped me of almost all identifying qualities of my former self. Perhaps to make me more humble? I don't know. Gone are the days that I spend endless hours and money at Sephora and Forever 21, perfecting my appearance and looking great. I'm not bashing those who do, because don't get it twisted, those things still interest me, but life has us in a place right now where that's no longer an option financially. Plus have you ever taken two toddlers to the mall? Bulls traipsing through china shops are more careful.
I think I've begun to doubt myself, not only because I am now a mother of two very crazy, accident prone toddlers, but because I am in a spot in my life where I have to make new friends in a new place.
Here we go with the friend pity party, get your violins ready.
But seriously, what the hell is wrong with adult women? I swear, almost everyone I've met here has already met their lifetime friend quota and won't even politely smile as we wait for the classroom pickup in preschool? I mean, we're all in that damn hallway together, and it's huge. Let's not pretend that we are all of a sudden too cool not to notice each other standing there. It's like, dude we do this every Tuesday and Thursday, basically standing in the same spot EVERY. SINGLE. WEEK. I have an idea, why don't we say a hello, or better yet, you reply to my hello instead of giving me a tight lipped botoxed grin eyeing my rumpled v neck, my cardigan and scuffed oxfords.
I'm sorry that I didn't get the memo that the mom pickup and dropoff dress code only allows Under Armour. Those rules must have been found in the too long parent handbook that I didn't bother to read. Besides, I don't really work out. Sorry.
Before I get too crazy, let me explain to you that I have made two of the most wonderful friends imaginable here. Both are/ were neighbors (one has since moved) and have really accepted me into their lives. But they are from here, and they already have their group of friends. And let me also remind you that I am blessed beyond belief to have friends back home, not to mention the support of the neatest blog friends in the universe, like Brittany, Allison, and Domi. So I don't think I have leprosy or anything.
And yes, I am really friends with Brittany, and No, it is not like that time I said I met Gavin Degraw and he got my number, even though I did meet him and he did ask, the photo evidence is just lost in my Myspace profile. So there.
I just find it completely wild that women, who find themselves in similar situations, cannot support each other, let alone even say hello. It truly is mind boggling. As a dance teacher who works with teenage girls; pretty, popular teenage girls at that, I see worse behavior in adult women, than in middle or high school. But why? What is the gain? Does being a mean girl for the rest of your life really pay off? I mean, obviously right? I bet you all still know the choreography to Jingle Bell rock.
Perhaps this is just my time. I thought that my ugly duckling awkward days were over in middle school (oh the repressed memories), but apparently I'm back in the saddle, only this time I'm not sure that I really give two shits. The rejection stings just as it did back then, but instead of learning how to apply my makeup, learn to talk to boys and get my braces off like I did back in the day, I think I'm fine just veering off all on my lonesome. After all, I'm bound to run into another drifter soon, am I right? Until then I'll just be hanging with my true friends and loving those who love me.
Oh, but here's a hint...replying to a "hello" is a common courtesy in life, even if it's fake, so do me a favor and at least acknowledge my presence with words, and I'll try not to roll my eyes so noticeably when you ironically tell your toddler "to use his words". That's all I'm asking , just a little give and take here.
Actually, come to think of it, this is beginning to sound more like a "real" female friendship after all.