I am a fairly confident person but I have my areas of insecurity just like any normal 42-year-old woman. I am not obsessed with anything in particular nor do I truthfully care all that much about what my hair, nose, skin, body, bikini line, thighs, wrinkles, abs, tush, ears, or whatever look like.
Even my parenting has fortunately escaped the wrath of too much “comparing” or too much worry. Hell, if anyone wants to jump right in with suggestions, be my guest. But, I have my limits too.
I just got assigned “paper plates” for the class Thanksgiving party. Secretly, I am thrilled. I can provide “paper plates” without even opening my eyes. Hun can even steal them from work and I don’t have to lift a finger. And, really…. what kid really wants cranberry sauce in 1st grade anyway?
But, there is something very sinister here. “Paper plates” gets assigned to the mom who forgets things, has a messy house and can’t remember to show up to read to the class. “Paper Plate mom” might even smoke….
“Paper Plate mom” doesn’t wear cute leggings and boots with a stylish bauble necklace like I just did to Back to School night. “Paper plate mom” wears sweatpants ( and not the good kind.) “Paper plate mom” might even be…………..wait for it…………divorced…
Is this some new kind of mommy-war? Did I offend the PTO powers that be? The good moms get cupcakes or juice boxes, or even carrot sticks. Where oh where oh where did I go wrong? Is this some kind of insult? I am too much of a big shot ( my father’s favorite insult) now that I am a politician to be asked to even make chocolate chip cookies? Is it because I have the strange-looking kid with a disability? Is this disability-discrimination right here in our home town? I think there is something fishy going on. I might have to sue someone. See, I am even a lawyer. “Paper plate mom” can’t be a lawyer, seriously, I have a diploma I can show you.
I am not “paper plate mom.” I have a nice, clean house with granite counter tops for god’s sake. My appliances are stainless steel and I even have Pumpkin-Spice air fresheners. What’s the deal?
Maybe I really am “paper plate mom” and I don’t know it…Why didn’t someone tell me? Now, I have to start smoking and get divorced… this is not good.