I took my youngest to a pool party one of his little classmates held (well, his mother did the actual hosting) in honor of their graduation from pre-school. I had hoped to just drop him off - and run to go tanning, but as I found myself being introduced to a big coffee clutch of moms sitting in the kitchen, I decided that begging off and using them all as free day care might not be the best idea.
I found myself participating in superfluous chatter with women who were proudly declaring how they don't let their kids have juice, only water and milk. I immediately took my guilt over the fact that my children suck down more Hi-C than the gross national product of Mexico and transformed it into an opportunity to silently lampoon such superiority. Give me a big fat break. In two years little Alice is going to be in grade school trading her whole wheat PB&J for juice boxes and sneaking sodas at birthday parties. Judgmental? Maybe. I prefer to call it being realistic. But my monsters manage to get in three glasses of milk in a day in addition to all the sugar. It was at this point I felt like I was Lynette in an episode of Desperate Housewives.
I later found out that little Jan's mom had not stayed, and instead left to get her hair done. I suppose she could have made the appointment before getting the party invite, but I know the first thing I do when I have a play date or birthday party set up is rush to book the stylist or that long overdue visit to the OBGYN.
I'm going to hate being one of the older mothers of this group. Thank God I don't look it. ;) Thank God I know a few women through my other two kids who have younger siblings to hang with at future social events.
Non-kid related stuff later.