Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Insecurity Complex

I need to grow up and stop giving a damn about what people think.

I changed my shoes three times before leaving for class visitation day at my recent 25th high school reunion. I wore capris and dressed the part of "Muffy." All to run into three former teachers, one classmate and two other women I knew. I should have worn my signature jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes. I would have been more comfortable. Likewise I tried on three different shirts before meeting two women for dinner out. It's not a date (I said this to myself and, later, them), and I knew they wouldn't care. Still...

I am not in high school any more. I am a grown woman. I am not a fashion plate, and never will be. You can dress me up and I'll still look like I rolled out of bed. Doesn't look like I'll change so, why do I care? Will I always be this insecure?

Look what Miss Gulch did to Toto

Miss Gulch nearly took my two and a half year old out at the grocery store. We had gone through the check out and the children were arguing about who could hold on to the cart for a ride to the parking lot. I believe our son was yelling at his sister that she'd have to ride in the cart and some crying ensued. As I defused the situation, a creepy looking septuagenarian grandma type came from behind and announced she wanted to get through. There was no "please" attached to her statement. I moved our cart aside, and she immediately pushed through, ignoring our little girl. I swooped in just in time to prevent scary grandma woman from mowing her over.

I used to be the impatient one in airports and check out lines. I mean, who wants to be stuck behind some parents and their obnoxious kids, right? Now I tune the meltdowns out, try to focus on a solution and screw the people behind me if they can't wait.

In Defense of Children

Twice this week I heard people whining about hauling kids to camps and activities. One was a neighbor who complained (in front of the child in question, no less), that she didn't want to be bothered driving him to day camp for a week. Other parents were bemoaning the frequency of little league games.

Now I too find little league troublesome. It's chaotic, and I have to schlep our two and a half year old from game to game, sometimes traversing parking lots and pavilions along the way. While I do think three games a week are too many for seven and eight year olds, I don't really mind it. Our son wanted to play and he's having fun. Same goes for swimming lessons, which we've now signed the little one up for too, and tennis. My spouse said he felt like a ping pong ball --camp drop off-swimming-camp pick up-tennis, etc. But why have 'em if you're not willing to haul 'em?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Profile

Hey, blog fans (okay, Heidi), I finally created a profile. Check it out. Who knew blogging had so much to offer.