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Life’s a Bitch

August 24, 2011

A friend of mine recently had a baby in a big Midwestern city and was looking for a mom group to hang with. She found one, and while she thought the Hip Mamas name was a little, well, pretentious, she filled out the brief questionnaire required to join. The Hip Mamas wanted to know basic things, like Corey’s interests and what they like to do in their spare time. Not thinking it was a big deal, she used silly answers, saying that she drank Dr. Pepper a lot and fed her daughter nothing but Oreos while watching TV.

It was riddled with sarcasm. Little did she know, being funny isn’t a requirement to join and apparently isn’t even allowed.

Interestingly enough, the response was laughable. Corey was told that Hip Mamas just might not be a good fit for her. Leesa*, the group organizer did say that Corey could re-apply, even using the same answers, and would be reconsidered. She also told her that while the group didn’t have any real food snobs in it, there were a few that went to culinary school and others who ate organic food and shopped farmer’s markets.

Clearly, as Leesa was so kind to point out, Corey could certainly eat whatever she desired, but there wouldn’t be anyone in the group to enjoy the junk with her. Apparently none of them watch any TV either. Leesa tells Corey that there wouldn’t be anyone who shared her interests or parenting style. REJECTED.

Now, before I go any further, there will be people out there who scream HYPOCRITE, saying that I’m only doing the same thing Leesa did by talking about her and criticizing what she did. But this was hurtful (and funny!).

This lady (who, FYI, has big bushy hairy armpits) had the nerve to blatantly criticize another woman, a new mother. Anyone who’s had a child knows that moms are never sure of what they’re doing. Ever. I’m sure even after The Kids are grown and gone I’ll question some of my decisions.

So why are we, as women, so hard on each other? Why do you have to point out that your kid was breastfed until she was 15 and is superior to mine? So what if my kids had donuts for breakfast this summer? Aren’t we all trying to do the same thing here? We should be sharing tips on bedtime routines, finding the right nanny, carpool (boy, do I have some suggestions) and what to cook for dinner.

At the outlet mall near Hilton Head, I was watching The Girl try on clothes. She paused, turning sideways and looked in the mirror. “Look at my fat belly,” she said, sucking in. My heart sank. She is five. Although she will, I don’t want her having to worry about her body like that. We beat ourselves up over five pounds gained, finding extra gray hairs or that extra wrinkle on our forehead.

It makes perfect sense to me. You live yours, I’ll live mine. Somewhere in the middle we can go to dinner together, have play dates and most importantly drink wine. In the meantime, shut your pie-hole. We’re all doing our best. Oh, and shave your pits.

Hey Leesa, roll that up in your cloth diaper and smoke it.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. August 24, 2011 4:40 pm

    If Corey wants to move to Mississippi we can totally hangout…. She will have to bring her own Oreos though because I ain’t sharing mine! She will have to drink her nasty Dr. Pepper with my husband though because I am hopped up on coffee.
    P.s. I shave my pits.

  2. Mandy permalink
    August 25, 2011 9:29 am

    I see that there may have been some confusion about what the word “hip” actually means. Leesa was clearly abbreviating hippy, no?

  3. Momma Be Thy Name permalink
    September 4, 2011 8:25 pm

    Ha! I am going to retweet this and post it on my Facebook page to go along with mine. I think they go pretty nicely.

  4. Texanne permalink
    September 4, 2011 10:18 pm

    Well, my grandkids are teen-agers, so I’ve passed the point of no give-a-damn when it comes to peer pressure and gaining acceptance. Actually, so have the kids.

    It’s generational, I’m sure, but the whole idea of applying to join a gang–er–club–er–whatever the heck the Hip Mamas might be,–well it strikes me as strange. What happened to neighbors, relatives, people you work with, go to church with, befriend in the check-out line at the Safeway? Whatever happened to casual, organically-grown friendships? Tell your friend the old gal advised her to leave the Blackberry in the sock drawer and get out on the sidewalk, tour the neighborhood. Go to Hobby Lobby. Hang out in the Huggies aisle at the aforementioned Safeway. Lurk in the Entertaining Fiction area of the library. Gather up your own group of Cool Girls, and leave the hairy Mean Girls in the dust. Hypoallergenic dust, of course. :)TX

    PS: The Golden Oreos are miles more delicious than the chocolate ones, specially right after you open the bag and they’re fresh, tender-crisp and rich with vanilla. MMM.

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