A long , long time ago . I met a girl from Japan . She was very sweet , and was a foreign exchange student of one of my siblings. She was a doll ! As an assignment for her English as a second language class in college , she had to write an essay about the differences between her native Japan, and Oklahoma/America. The Cliff's notes version is this : everything in America is super-sized, the bigger the better. In Japan , the regular meals at McDonald's are the size of the happy meals here, and happy meals are around half that size . They don't eat crap-tastic food full of preservatives and lard, and if they do , they do it in moderation. When she first arrived here , she had to shop in the little girls department to find clothes that fit. By the time she wrote this essay , she was in a woman's medium. She ended this oral presentation by saying , " Come to America , the big clothes are waiting for you ! " More than a decade later, I still get a kick out of it whenever I have to go clothes shopping in a department store . Largely because the big clothes got me. And boy did they get me good .
Around here , we are in the throes of wrapping up the second week of school . My face book has been inundated with status postings of , " oh crap, I had to drop the kids off in PJ's with no makeup ! oh no ! " Followed by said Mother's facebook friends echoing sentiments of , " oh the horror ! " , " oh the shame !" , " Sweet lordy Jesus ! You must have been so busy ! " , and my personal favorite ," I hate it when that happens ! I look so terrible ! "
This kills me , because I have seen these Mom's . They are tiny , petite little pixies . These Pajama-clad drop offs are more like Victoria's Secret Models taking a minute out of their slumber party / pillow fight photo-shoot at the Sorority to manage drop - off duty. These girls could not look shitty if they tried ! I mean, they could puke , in public, and there would be a line of guys around the block trying to make sure THEY were the ones who got to hold back their hair. They are the kind of girls who get a pimple like once a year , and refuse to leave their house the entire time it is flared up. The ones who can still fit in that size 2 after four kids, who have a never-ending supply of clean and cutesy shirts that somehow never look like they have been barfed/shit/pissed etc on . In essence, they look like they have mastered the art of sailing through motherhood unscathed, or at least with no visible scars.
Their houses are immaculately clean , with posh and trendy interiors , showroom ready at all times , no one would ever suspect that within those walls dwelt children. Their clothes are up to the minute trendy, and small enough that I couldn't use them for a leg-warmer or a glove ( but they will incessantly complain over being "fat" if they gain 5 pounds). Their children have names like "Jagger" and "Rice" and "Buffy", and their lives belong on the cover of "Parents" or "Better Homes and Gardens" . Their children are always clean, with recent haircuts, and the coolest clothes, and they are always making some craft with them , or planning an outing of some sort . They are the Moms who seem to have everything in life down to a fine art the kind that make everyone else feel somehow under-accomplished.
AND THEN, THERE IS ME .
I have never in my life pretended that I am capable of dropping my child off fully dressed and in make-up, i have only managed to pick her up that way around 5 times in her life . I mean lets face it , I'm generally just doing good to get her there before the bloody bell rings . Despite my best intentions towards actually COOKING her breakfast before school , every day this year since school started , she has had a freaking cereal bar. At least twice she had made it to class with her hair an un-brushed rats-nest. I have been in Pj's or at best yoga pants and a t-shirt at drop off every day since school began, and it usually hasn't changed much by pick up time. When she exits the van , there is usually at least one wrapper or bag of some sort that tries to follow her and requires being thrown back in the vehicle before she enters the building. At pick up , she has to climb across the mountain of bulk dry goods I haven't managed to bring in yet to get to her car seat . The teacher loading her looks at me like , " Lord your a slob ! Jeez ! "
As i await my turn in the drop off lane , I look in the mirror to see my eyebrows and mustache in desperate need of waxing . Dragon breath that could stop a freight train. My whole t-zone swimming in oil. Hair that Medusa would be proud of ( once in a while I actually manage a pony tail or a messy bun). and some obviously just slept in Pj's. This morning I dropped her off in a Mu-Mu with no bra and flip-flops, and a hair-don't styled by pillow & drool . As I did, I wondered what those perfect Moms on my facebook would think if they could see me now. I could see them in my head, shuddering in horror . Then it occurred to me . They are almost all universally younger than me by at least 10 years. They don't have arthritis, they aren't obese. They have a thyroid that works maybe . And they probably didn't have to stay up until 3am doing the housework you couldn't get done while your needy child was awake , so that Mom's like them don;t look down their noses at you and call DHS. Phew !
This afternoon , as I sat in the pick up line . I indulges in more than a little Schadenfreude . As I watched all the twenty-something mommies parading out of the doors with their offspring, wearing their booty-shorts, and their tiny tank tops. I noticed something I had never noticed before . The subtle beginnings of saggy tits. And Cottage cheese below the booty shorts. Hints of burgeoning muffin-tops and crows feet . And I giggled to myself . A LOT. Eventually I stopped just short of rolling down my window and shouting in my best wannabe Japanese sing-song voice , "Someday soon , the Mu-Mu is coming for you-you ! "
It is the circle of life , my friends .
Don't hate :-)
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