My extravagant second-night-out-in-a-row on Friday was Bunco with the neighborhood ladies. When I first moved to the mid-western suburbs this struck me as mockably anachronistic and, well, lame as a Tupperware party. A "dry" afternoon Tupperware party in the 1950s with pearls, cucumber sandwiches, and twin sets - little did I know they were more swingin' 60s parties with too many martinis. (Or, this week, cosmos.) And don't tell Matt, but we end up actually playing dice thisclose to never. I love my gals & my night out but... BUT... with the exception of one other mom who rarely comes, I'm the only mom gifted with IEP meetings. And on Friday, when talk turned to Homecoming and how much money was appropriate to spend on up-dos, and dress straps and hem lengths, and IwouldNeverLetMYdaughter WearTHAT!, I wanted to be about 4000 miles away. Because I just don't know.
I don't know if my daughter will be loved and cherished and welcomed - or if mean tween girls anxious over fitting in despite their first and only zit will lash out at someone else, my girl, in a Darwinesque grasp for a higher rung on the social ladder and if that will dampen her joy and make school some hellish Lord of the Flies reenactment. I don't know if all the other moms out there will teach their children to be kind, as my favorite neighbor is. My neighbor who was surprised when I grew quiet and shot her a look because of course my daughter is going to go to Homecoming. But she doesn't see the occasional hard eyes at the park from the girls who are almost, maybe just a year or two away, from being too old for silly things like slides & swings. I don't know.
But I do know that when I picked up my daughter tonight, and she ran over to me as fast as her little legs could run, arms up in anticipation, and as she started telling me all about her day in her excited babble that she hasn't yet translated into English, and later when she started laughing and rocking out in the car to a song completely inappropriate for children, my headache disappeared and I was happy. And then we were home.
So tough to sit in the midst of those moments. But the dancing in the car seems to help them melt away.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I wonder if DS makes having a daughter easier or more complicated. Hey wait, I'm gonna save that thought for my own post.
ReplyDeleteLove car dancing. Although Abby seems to be a fan of Britney Spears, which...well, she is catchy.
Thanks for your comment. We don't have a Stride Rite store in town, and the couple of stores I called that carry that brand don't stock the extra wide widths. The current Stride Rites Max was wearing are Stride Rite wide and didn't at all fit the SureSteps. Good to know about the extra wide width. I may order some. They're a little more dressy than skate shoes!
ReplyDeleteOkay, I have been so busy that I've been slacking on my blog relationships this week. So let me say:
ReplyDelete--She is soooo big! She's like a big person in these pictures! Amazing!
--I am dying to see the video with you in it. Can I google it?
--I have a different set of reactions to the Homecoming thing. I wonder why that is. I was such an outcast in junior high, until I found my own little community of outcasts in high school, so perhaps the burden of being outcast feels familiar to me? Like a "normal" part of certain years? I don't know. Plus, I can easily slip into a place of superiority (not healthy, I get that) about Homecoming et. al.
--You are so impressive, blogging every day! I am going to try to get a post on our blog every day for the rest of the month, but we'll see how well that works.