I’m very pleased to tell you that my son is a ladies
man. He may only be five months
old, but he’s already got some serious moves, and he’s definitely the most
popular dude in our Mommy and Me classes.
Call me shallow if you will, but I’m incredibly relieved that the Muffin
Man seems to be headed for a more promising adolescent social standing than
either of his parents. After the
trauma of my own teenage years as a borderline social reject, I feared that I
would end up raising a child destined for the outer limits of the high school
social strata. There’s nothing
wrong with being a nerd or a dweeb or a loser, in fact, many of us go on to do
very great things with our lives (myself, not so much. Bill Gates, however, is a real
nerd-makes-good), but as a Mother I sincerely hope to spare my child the pain
and self-loathing that goes hand in hand with not being one of the cool
kids.
One of my very real fears, from the moment I found out I was
pregnant, was that my own inherent nerdiness would be a hindrance to Noah’s
being a cool kid. Despite the fact
that I am now comfortable with who I am and not concerned with being “cool”, I
worried that my quirkiness (which, let’s be honest, is just a nicer way of
saying weird) would mean that other Moms wouldn’t want to hang out with me and,
by extension, Noah. I know we all
like to pretend that adulthood makes everyone equal, but let’s not bullshit
each other here, there are still popular and unpopular people, it’s just that
now they have more expensive clothes and better haircuts.
Well, dear reader, the joke is on me. It turns out that people no longer see
me as a loser. Despite the fact
that I sometimes look in the mirror and see the gangly girl with a unibrow, a
mullet, and an intact hymen, that’s no longer who I am. Thanks to an excellent eyebrow waxer,
hairdresser and multiple sexual partners, I’ve somehow morphed into the Mommy
that other women want to hang out with.
I’m sure it helps that Noah is seriously the cutest little boy ever, but
I think I do have to give myself some credit for managing to not let my freak
flag fly at inappropriate times.
Maybe in my old age (and let’s face it, I’m an old Mommy) I’ve become
more comfortable in my skin and I spend less time worrying about what other
people think. I have a sneaking
suspicion that a lot of it has to do with feeling truly loved and valued by my
husband, so I’m no longer measuring myself against the girls who have
boyfriends. Or perhaps it’s that
ever since I gave birth to Noah, I just really don’t give a shit anymore. When you’re exhausted and overwhelmed
and doing your best just to get through the day, everything else ceases to
matter. And in the end I think
that’s what separated the popular girls from us unpopular ones; they all seemed
to float through life and school unaffected by what others thought of
them. So I guess at the ripe old
age of 30-something I’ve finally become the girl I always wanted to be.
I’m looking forward to watching Noah grow and change into
the man he’s going to become. I
have a feeling we’re going to be spending a small fortune buying the kid condoms
in 14 years or so, which is just fine with me. But I do think Noah’s father needs to have a talk with him
about only touching girls when they invite him to, because he’s been getting a
little fresh with the hot Japanese ladies in his Mommy and Me class
lately.
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