I’m the mom whose kid arrives half an hour late to your kid’s birthday party with a sloppily handmade card and a jar of ginger jam or pickled ramps or something else wildly inappropriate and unappealing, because even though I spent 45 minutes at K- Mart in the toy aisle, I couldn’t bring myself to buy a present there, what with all the batteries required and Pixar movie tie-ins. And you think, “doesn’t that girl’s mom ever do anything fun?” and the answer, yes, is no, I don’t. And I’m the mom who’s proud of that, because I’m teaching my daughter that things don’t matter, even though I know full well things do matter. I’m the mom who has a million other things going on, most of them only tangentially related to being a mom, and who strives to be unapologetic about it, but who also is apt to agree to a playdate just to try to cut the inevitable guilt and doubt she feels about being not involved enough, having not signing her daughter up for wee one soccer or ballet or even swimming lessons yet. *I loved this post by Sara Bir. Make sure you are subscribed to The Manifest-Station so that you get the posts in your inbox. Thanks SimpleReminders! via Jennifer Pastiloff
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 00:13:53 +0000
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