I just got back from a 2-hour meeting at the school. Two hours that I can’t possibly get back. As I drove home, I was talking to my aunt. I was laughing at the silliness of it all. I threatened to hang a sign from the back of my mom-mobile that says, “Yes, I know but it’s paid for.” I told her about the need for the fundraising chair to point out that just because you don’t get along with your room partner, you still need to crank out the bucks at the PTA fundraisers. Those baskets need to look nice. You know the ones we’ll auction off at the dinner at the country club. My sweet pretties also needed to know about professional connections. They’re important for building spectacular baskets to auction off.
I got up this morning prepared to be busy. Ray’s best buddy from high school and college is coming today. I was making a breakfast casserole, trying to get my thoughts around the day’s schedule when I got a text about the meeting…you know the one I forgot about. I was standing over hot sausage in my stinky work out clothes looking at Bria with nutella on her face in her pajamas. I had a half hour. One shower, wet hair thrown in a clip later… we were off and running for the school. The only jewelry I had on was the jewelry I never take off… my watch, my engagement ring and my wedding band. My shirt was pressed. My jeans were clean. That’s about all I can say about my self. I clearly didn’t fit it.
There were mom’s in full Ann Taylor regalia. You could have opened the ad in your InStyle magazine and seen any one of them. That was the truly put together ones that is. There were a few in their under armor workout gear with their hair done and make up on ready for the gym as soon as the meeting was over. Clearly, I don’t fit in. I listened politely. I only shot dirty looks at the people giving the mom behind me dirty looks. Her poor baby wouldn’t stop wailing. She was the only person in the room who looked more uncomfortable than me.
I got through it. I ran my errands chewing on the behavior that was on display. The back biting, the prissing, and even me being judgmental. Folks it’s a freak show and I now understand why there are mothers tossing back bourbon at 3 in the afternoon.
I got home. I opened my in box and read this. One Mississippi…two mississippi…three….mississippi. One child dies every 15 seconds of a water born illness. Most all water born illnesses are totally preventable and treatable. And I was in a meeting discussing how many thousands of dollars I could raise to buy outdated material.
Just something to chew on this weekend.