Mothers

Mothers. . . just like the movie "Little Children" ( I am referring to the snotty scene with the group of mothers), there are cliques, niches, gangs, and even the Mommy Mafia. I am not saying that it is just a "woman" thing, or a "mother" thing, cliques and stuff are a universal norm. But there are those that subscribe to Competitive Mothering, and I am so not into that. Or the SAHM vs the Working Moms. . .don't all mothers work? It shouldn't be a competition or even an issue as far as I am concerned, and I have been on both sides of the fence. I don't belong to any of the groups, and even though it might be a great idea to rub elbows with some other mothers, I feel a hesitation, and I probably haven't put myself out there enough, and I really don't want too. I probably still need to start playing a musical instrument on my porch. Some of the mothers that I have met, I have steered clear of, and they of me. Some of the moms are really neat. Most of them are in their mid forties, and it just seems that there is nothing in common. Except for the fact that our children go to the same school and share certain after school activities. My kids don't play hockey, they don't skate, or play soccer, they do not want to play baseball. I will enroll Gibbles and Tibbles in an Art Day Camp next year, either in Port Elgin, or Bayfield. I never really talked about the "reunion", which happened a month ago. It was at a bar that many of us went to, when we were underage and in the vocational art programme. I was a bit nervous to attend, but as soon as Adam and I arrived to the event, I felt a comfort that I haven't felt in years. I felt completely normal. Here I was sitting around with people (some now mothers and fathers) that I barely remembered, chatting about the "pit", the art, the people that were missing, and I felt absolutely normal. Some still spouted mohawks, there were lots of piercings, lots of black, many pairs of army boots, and guys wearing eyeliner, and then there were those that looked like they just jumped out of a bag of bread, all clean and neat, and "normal", but there was a feeling of an acceptance. I think I have that with WB, and of course my hubby, my hairdresser, and a few people from around town, but it's not en masse. Oops, had to go for a power walk. I wonder what the election will bring. I just hope to hell that the Conservatives flunk.