Wednesday, July 22, 2009

My first (kind of) post

Okay, well here I am. My name is "D" and I'm a terrible housewife. I'm also the mommy of 2 children. Abi (short for Abigail) who is almost 3 1/2 , and Jacob who is 10 months old.
And my ramblings begin.

Has anyone else ever had a rushing sound in their ear but they aren't really sure if it's there or not? That's what I noticed last night but I think it might always be there when it's really quiet and I've only just now picked up on it. Great, huh? That means now I can't stop thinking about it. I'm sure I will eventually. Like when I actually leave my cave (the house) and do something productive with the kids. Maybe I'll go to the library today? I don't know.
The thing with libraries is- moms are there. Yes, I'm a mom. But I'm not a "library mom." And yes, they exist. And no, they are not like me. They are different. Library moms are almost always dressed nicely and they have their cup of morning joe in their hands and their stroller in the other. They are usually hanging around other moms that also have a cup of coffee in their hands. They have had time to put make up on in the morning. They utilize every service the public library has to offer. They have not missed one story time from the minute their child was born. They probably even went to storytime BEFORE their child was born, you know, because babies can listen in utero and all that crap. They let their kids dominate the kid section- which means my kid is left on the outskirts, because their kids have all the puzzles. And they know all the library workers- y'know, because at this point those workers have become nannies. And all the while the moms chat about how they found all these wonderful deals at Kohl's. And then I walk in.
I never dress up to go the library. And you better bet, if I'm going to the library, it's before I took a shower. And I don't have coffee in my hand- I probably have a dirty diaper and a bag of cheerios. I have no make up on. My clothes are probably wrinkled. And my daughter is walking around with a wide-eyed expression on her face like, "wow we're at the LIBRARY!"
Looks of disapproval ensue.
Well they can kiss my fat white terrible-housewife butt.

I also hate playdates. Please tell me other moms hate playdates. Because I am stuck in playdate hell in this neighborhood. It's not that I hate the idea of my kid playing with other kids. It's just that I think "playdates" are lame.
Tell me, did you ever have a "Playdate" as a child? Do you EVER remember your mom calling another mom on the phone and asking to have someone over for a "playdate?" NO! That word didn't even exist. You played with the kids on your street. Oh, you didn't have kids on your street? Well then you were that miserable kid sitting on the sewer drain trying to catch lizards. But either way, there was no "playdate." And it doesn't just stop with the kids- playdates are really for moms too. Sometimes, the mom tags along and chit chats with the other mom. Sometimes, you just drop your kids off just to get a break for yourself. Sometimes, there are playGROUPS. Yes, groups. Because one friend just isn't enough. Oh, and make sure you bring a snack for your child and the "host child." Otherwise it's rude. And, if you DO find yourself in a playGROUP- you make sure that you make your child "wash their hands" before snack time. You don't want disapproving looks.
The moms in my neighborhood are playdate crazy. They want to schedule these bad boys in advance. Seriously? Grocery store, check. Mom's birthday, check. Playdate scheduled 2 months in advance- check. WHAT?! I mean honestly- are they going to have to start sending out "save the date" cards now? And if I ask, "hey you want to bring your kid over to play tomorrow?" I get a "let me check my schedule." AGH! You don't know what you're doing tomorrow? What the crap. There goes spontanaeity. And if, by chance, I do decide to go to a playgroup- guess what the moms say. "WOW! Look who's out of the house! We haven't seen you in a long time!" GRR! That's the thing, you know. My 'cave' is in the suburbs. My front door is practically on the sidewalk. Do these ladies notice when I open and close my blinds? Yes, they do. Do they listen for signs of life coming from my fenced in backyard? You bet. They're out there, people. Moving to the country seems like a better idea every minute.

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