Have just returned home from storytime at the library and a quick trip to the local playground. William woke up this morning and the first thing out of his mouth was "Mama, what are we doing today???" Well, (I wanted to say), Mama is going to lie on the sofa with her feet propped up all day and watch soap operas and eat bon bons (isn't that what stay at home moms are supposed to do?) while the maid does 43 loads of laundry, removes the multi family dwelling of dust bunnies over there in corner and fixes us all a nice homecooked meal and a big chocolate cake for dessert! Popping back into reality though, I said...hmmm...let's see....if I can heave my gargantuan self out of this chair we'll maybe go to the new library. I remembered that Tuesdays are storytime and I've been wanting to check it out.
Storytime was fun...and somewhat uneventful until Catherine decided to run up on stage and pull Brown Bear off the storyboard while the audience had the pleasure of surveying my extra wide load as I waddled up there to retrieve her and rescue Bear. Then we went to playground. Somehow though I managed to leave feeling just slightly more inadequate than I did when I arrived.
It all started when I was chatting with this tiny, cute and oh so fashionable expectant Mom. I was thinking to myself....well of course she looks so cute and stylish...she can't be more than a few months pregnant. So she says to me...when are you due? Oh....I've got about 6-7 weeks to go. And you? Expecting her to say...6 or 7 MONTHS....she says....a couple of weeks. A COUPLE OF WEEKS? Are you giving birth to a gerbil? AARRGGHHH!!!!!! Suddenly regretting all those Chik-Fil-A runs and M&M binges I've indulged in, I set off to find William.
Before I can locate William though I run into Perfect Mom. I see her everywhere. The last time I saw her we were all at the local pizza joint and as her three small children sat perfectly still, napkins in lap, eating pizza with a fork, William was rolling around under the table pitching a fit while Catherine smeared pizza sauce all over her face. Today....those same three children were lined up on a park bench, sitting perfectly still, napkins in laps (I'm not kidding), eating homemade lunches and waiting on Mom to tell them when they could go play. I gotta get out of here I thought, before I feel completely and totally inadequate. So I call for William and then I see him. One shoe missing, handfuls of rocks he's trying to stuff into his pockets, and I look over at Catherine, eating stale goldfish she's dug out of the bottom of my bag and pulling her shirt up to show off her belly. And I just want to laugh.
Come on, William, we need to go home and eat lunch I say. And then loud enough for hopefully everyone to hear...."That pot roast Sudie Pearl made us is getting cold....and you're going to be late for your French lessons!"