Sweet hotcakes, it's summer.
I wish I could sound like a sane person and claim that the reason I'm excited for summer is because I look forward to Savannah whining at me all day about what we're going to do FOR KIDS. (By the way, this tragically does not include Target, Trader Joe's, the mall, Starbucks, or the gym. It does however include the pool, the park, and looking at puppies that I'm going to be harassed to buy.)
But, that would be lying. The real reason I'm looking forward to summer is because I have a crippling case of social momxiety. I don't know what it is - I have no problems making friends elsewhere. Maybe it's that I'm traumatized from the hell on earth that was kindergarten. Or maybe there's just something about moms at school that makes me a complete moron.
Like last week when I finally got up the nerve to invite another mom for coffee under the guise of planning the class party, but then she misunderstood my email and thought I was referring to the meeting where ALL the 1st grade class moms were getting together to meet about the party. So, I showed up at 7:00 a.m. at school with flat ironed hair and mascara and a pedicure wearing a PEASANT TOP for godssake and she wasn't even there, her husband was.
And then I tried to casually ask him if his wife was coming to school this morning? Because we were supposed to have coffee? Maybe I misunderstood? And then he was like "I have no idea" and he looked at my patent leather sandals a little sympathetically I think? And then he suggested I call her and then I'm like DO YOU HAVE HER NUMBER?
It was just...bad.
That probably would not have stung so much had I not just had to convince someone that I wasn't pregnant.
God, it hurts to even write about it. I'm typing with my eyes closed.
So. It was my daughter's party. Yes, P-A-R-T-Y. Of which I was the host. I was standing at the front door (of the ridiculously overpriced loud petri dish of a bouncy entertainment center which they should just rename You Need a Bath and I Need a Drink) and I had the joy of welcoming everyone's children.
There were a few mothers milling about at the entrance signing in their kids when one of the moms leaned into me conspiratorially and whispered "Lena? You're pregnant?".
At first I felt nothing. Kind of like those stories you hear where someone gets their leg bitten off by a shark and they fight the shark off and feel nothing and keep swimming to land and have no idea they lost their leg until they try to stand up? It was kind of like that.
I laughed at first. "Oh, no! It's just the shirt". I patted my stomach for effect. Not very convincingly because THEN SHE NUDGED ME WITH HER ELBOW like "C'mon you can tell me."
She insisted "Yes, you are. It's IN YOUR FACE."
And then? I swear to god, she puffed out her cheeks and POKED THEM. I'm assuming this was in an effort to break me down, me and my tall tales of gaining 20 pounds from wine and Bristol Farms cheese samples instead of, you know, a growing human.
I shook my head again, without a smile this time. "I wish" I said.
In all honesty, she looked a little horrified. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
I spent the next few days trying to pretend this conversation never happened and to secretly but frequently make fun of her hair.
But, then I saw the pictures from the party. And I saw this:
And, um. Yeah. My bad. So. Thanks H&M for making me look pregnant and then reminding me I'm barren! You rock.
That picture scared me straight and I've been back on the program ever since - eating right, exercising and all that jazz. And you know what? I kind of hate it. But, I've lost 4 pounds and I keep slinking around the house asking Chris if he still recognizes me, so I think it's paying off.
Friday was finally the last day of school putting an end to my social misery. Not only did Savannah get an excellent report card (all O's! Which I think are better that A's. Not sure.), but I caught Are-You-Pregnant mom checking out my new workout pants and then went to lunch with Stood-Me-Up-For-Coffee mom.
I think this means 1st grade was a huge success for me. Savannah is so proud. But, I'm in no hurry for September.