Just in case there is any question about whether or not the parks around here are tuly devoid of mommies, I’ll provide some proof. Here are some pics of a recent trip that Sam and I took. Do you see anyone else? Didn’t think so.

To entertain himself, because you can only swing for so long, and slide the car down the slide for so long, and stare at Mommy for so long, he decided to clean things up a bit. I won’t tell you how long he spent crawling around looking for acorns (and one twig), but I think you’ll get the picture. Find an acorn, hold it up to show Mommy excaiming, “ichsh,” (”this”?), hand it to Mommy who throws it over the fence, move on to the next acorn as Mommy tries to stop baby from scraping up his little knees.

And now you know how we spend our days. Unfortunately we may have many more like this. Yesterday was our first playgroup with “the club” (and yes, I was kidding about the various duct tape items I was meant to bring - that was my little hazing joke. Sorry it didn’t come across in the writing) and I’m a little worried. Let’s just say between Sam’s screaming and sobbing because he was scared to death of one of the other babies that kept screaming at him, it was kind of hard to get involved in the various conversations about flashcards for babies and which gym classes would be better to accelerate motor development…oh yeah, and which preschools would start taking kids as early as 18 months. I know, I’m being a snob, and I’m supposed to be all about refraining from judgment of other moms because we all need support and motherhood is our common bond and blah blah blah, but I am also not exaggerating - these were the topics covered, the very ones I JUST took issue with in a very recent post.

And I don’t know if it was so much that I was judging them, because seriously I was just trying to soothe my sobbing son who has NEVER cried like that, or if I just felt really out of place so now I’m lashing out. Regardless, I think it was Kate who used the term “kindred spirit” recently; I’m pretty sure mine wasn’t there. It probably doesn’t help matters that I was dressed like an adolescent boy. I had just decided I was going to be myself since if I had to put on a little show I wouldn’t really end up being friends with the people there anyway. Meeting people who are “like you” when “you” are a really liberal and fairly crunchy mom disguised as a 9th grade skater is hard. There’s another playgroup tomorrow. I’ll try again.

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Desperate times call for desperate measures…and I’m officially desperate. Since moving here things have not been going well on the social front. Sam and I have been the only living humans on the playground pretty much daily. I have made phone call after phone call to parent child centers and community centers where no one returns my calls, several nursing groups to find out that they disbanded over a year ago (why they still have a listing in the paper I have no idea), and multiple music/gym classes to find out they are either too far away or right smack in the middle of naptime. Since moving here I have had exactly 3 conversations with other moms, 3 different moms, each lasting roughly 3 minutes, with the exception of one. One lone mom actually took the time to talk to me, answer my questions, and give me her email address, ultimately convincing me to join my first. ever. club.

Among the failed phone calls, empty parks, the super fun stroller-cise classes , people who want to charge me money just to come and sit at their house for 45 minutes while they “facilitated” discussion, and the deserted book clubs, I had also sent out a few emails to a club for moms that had a listing in the free paper I picked up. After a few days went by I was sure nothing would come of that just like everything else, but on day 5 I received an email back from a very helpful woman who had been out of town. She told me about the upcoming events this club had and said I could come by and see what I thought before joining. So after some difficulty in finding a time that worked (yet again everything takes place at 10:00 when Sam naps) I settled on a park day meeting one afternoon the following week. When the day came I received an email from my contact saying that she would not be able to be at the park that day because she had an ultrasound, but that she had sent out an email to the group telling anyone who was going to be there to look out for me.

As I approached the park, for the first time since moving here, I was walking toward other moms. Let me rephrase that: I was walking toward a mom. There was one woman there at the swings with her baby, who looked to be about 8 months old. As I came up to the gate the woman greeted me and asked if I was Sam’s mom. She had me at hello, dude. She had me at hello. Never mind the fact that this is supposed to be a club and there was only one person there. One person is 100% more person than I have seen at any swing at any park so far.

She told me about the club, the message board, the activities. All of it sounded pretty good. And it sounded like it would be really helpful for a person who just moved here because I can post questions on the message board asking about doctors and babysitters and so forth. They meet at parks, have playgroups for different age groups, a book club, a mom’s night out once a month, lots of stuff. And so, I joined my little club. I paid my twenty dollar membership fee and bought myself some friends. Please understand, I am not a club/organization/sorority/institution type a gal. I’ve always felt a bit of disdain for any type of group that included the special some and excluded most others. It’s just not my style. In fact, I specifically sought out a college that had absolutely no fraternities or sororities of any kind. I just didn’t want to be in a place where people segregated themselves by choice. And my feelings about this have grown exponentially since becoming a mom because we need all the support we can get, (some of you may remember me yelling about this at length in the Middle School of Mommyhood .)

I guess I feel like this situation is a bit different because there was no process by which I had to be chosen. I chose them and then gave them my twenty smackers. So if anyone who has twenty bucks to spend each year can join, I feel like this is pretty inclusive. I like that they do at least some work for the community and seem to be very supportive of each other, particularly when a woman has just given birth – I saw a sign-up thing for women to take meals to the new mom’s house. So I feel like this might be a good thing. Touche to me. Or maybe I am just rationalizing this because I’ve just paid money to have the opportunity to meet people. Don’t care. I’m happy. I’m in the club. And as I said before, desperate times.

But does anyone think it’s weird that they told me to bring some duct tape, a swim cap, and several jars of honey to my first meeting? They said that traditionally they like to give new members a nice, warm welcome…:)

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So I think that 80’s Sunday is going to have to take a summer hiatus. I knew this might be the case last week when I felt a bit of relief that I didn’t need to stop our packing to do it, but I figured it was just because we were busy so I didn’t feel I had the time. But then yesterday I felt a little pang of stress when I realized I had to get everything together for an 80’s Sunday the next day. Part of the problem is that with the new video thing it is much more time consuming and to a certain extent requires Hubby’s assistance. But Hubby is studying for the Bar exam and there is no way I am going to bother him when he is studying to come and do some video of Sam staring blankly. And then there’s the downloading and uploading and posting and it’s all just very computery, which, for me, is sometimes difficult, particularly when doing it while watching Sam. I’ll also be out of town with Sam the week before the Bar and then away again with Hubby and Sam the week after. So the next month was going to be scattered at best. Anyway, blah blah blah. I think the kicker was feeling a little stress about it, because we all know that’s not why we blog. So I’ll see if I feel the impetus to start it up again in the fall. For all I know I’ll start it again when we get back from the second trip in August. And I apologize to any of you that are crying, longing to hear that unknown 80’s riff playing in the background while Sam eats Cheerios on your screen.

But we cannot forget our second time winner, you guessed it, that Crazy MamaD, who blew everyone away with her Little Red Corvette guess 2 weeks ago. Congrats to Mama D, who I assume will still be doing her “Say What” game on Fridays where you get to guess an 80’s movie from a quote. So be sure to go there to get your 80’s weekend fix.

And she’s got a new profile pic for your viewing pleasure.

I feel bad doing this with no warning. I can’t get the whole video thing together right now, but I will at least leave you with some obscure lyrics to ponder. I also remember vowing to stump you guys, so I can’t possibly admit defeat so easily. So here are some lyrics for ya. Let’s see just how good you guys really are.

I see your face every time I dream
On every page, every magazine
So wild so free so far from me
You’re all I want, my fantasy
Oh!
Look what you’ve done to this rock ‘n’ roll clown

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Raising a little boy is so…strange. Sam’s moods are so fleeting and extreme. One moment he is grunting and yelling at his truck that will not stay up on the couch when he puts it there, screaming and turning red in the face in aggressive frustration. The next he is head butting me with his mouth wide open for a kiss, he lays his head on my leg and smiles as I rub his ears while he whispers sweet nothings, aka babble, to my lap. I think I’m in for it. He’s got me right where he wants me. Is it wrong to believe I have the sweetest baby imaginable? The best? Because I do…believe that, I mean.

Here are some highlights from the zoo today, the highlight being the ice cream. This is not unlike the face he makes for that kiss.


My two boys.

And for the five of you that care, we’ll be headed to the in-laws for the 4th so there won’t be an 80’s Sunday this week. We’ll pick up where we left off next week.

Happy weekend and Happy 4th!

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I just have to brag because I am so very proud of Hubby. As you may know, he graduated from law school back in May. He did an excellent job in all of his classes from the very beginning. Just yesterday we found out that he was awarded Cum Laude for his awesome GPA, 3.88.

In addition, he was awarded the honor of Order Of The Coif. I know, it sounds so very Harry Potter. This is an award that is decided by the Professors at his school, giving it to students for outstanding achievement.

Hubby worked so hard during his 3 years of law school, he took excellent care of a crazy pregnant woman for nine months of it, and then took on the new responsibility of being an outstanding father - all while succeeding and excelling at a top 15 law school. I am so proud of him for being able to accomplish so much, so I just had to brag because I can’t contain myself.

And speaking of Harry Potter, look at what they made him wear for his graduation!

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Welcome to my new look! This is what I get when I go to a book group that I’ve looked forward to all month and prepped for all day (mentally and psychologically), one of the only social events I have been able to attend since moving here, only to sit there by myself for 20 minutes until finally realizing no one else is coming. After coming home crying and declaring that absolutely nothing seems to work out in this city (recall all posts regarding the BIG MOVE and the one about how no mommies live here) Hubby offered to work on my site’s look with me, something I have been making noises about for a month or so. He’s so good to me. Of course, it also gave him a good excuse to avoid studying for the BAR exam…

I hope this new format is both easier to read and more reflective of my site’s content. The Carol Brady thing was a little too kitschy, even for me. So please let me know what you honestly think, because I’m sure we’ll have more nights when I have tried to be social and am thwarted, and Hubby will be looking for more ways to avoid his studies. Personally, I love it and intend to have beautiful dreams about my new blog tonight.

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Oh, it’s so very unfortunate, but alas I am sick. You may have noticed in the description of the 80’s Sunday video that I mention Sam has a bit of a fever. Well now he is ok, but I am under the weather. So I won’t really be writing today, but sipping tea instead. But I wanted to go ahead and mention it now so that tomorrow when some of you are asking me if I went to visit my good friends with the apple calves and the blank stares again, I’d have my excuse prepared. I am sick, see? So no, I can’t possibly go back to that class and haul buns through the park with my humungo stroller and humungo nummies. Just can’t. Must finish book instead. Must rest. Must regain strength and recover.

Ok, this is all a little too sarcastic sounding. I truly am legitimately ill – sore throat, stuffy nose, dizzy feeling, all that stuff. But I’ll be honest: I’m just fine with not having to make a decision about going back to that class tomorrow. I hadn’t decided yet what I was going to do. I think I was leaning toward going, which would mean that now I should be feeling some sort of disappointment. Can’t say that I do.

We’ll see if something happens to come up next week as well…

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