And no one talked to me...

So today was day two of Kayla's swimming lessons at the Mystic Education Center. The first week I had a friend from work to sit and talk with. This week, she went in the water with her son. As I scrambled in 5 minutes late, hurried Kayla into the water and took a seat in the bleachers, I realized I was on one side of the great divide, and these other mothers fell squarely on the other. Now, we all have children younger than 10, some older than Kayla, some younger by a few months, most right about her age. This, my friends, is where the similarities end. These women all were over 30, most closer to 40. Most carried that haughty tooty "Mystic housewife" air about them. You know, they all talked about their perfect, well behaved children and their husbands, and laughed those conspiratorial laughs of perfection as they waved around their beautiful, big diamonds and expensive braclets and such. They wore the "Mom uniform"- trouser jeans or authentic Aidas track pants, button downs, unstained long sleeved tee shirts and SHUDDER clogs. Sorry, mommies, my jeans are bootcut only- with stretch. I happened to be wearing a black and gray leopard print tee shirt, certainly not a button down. I rocked my Reeboks...and last week I rocked my heart print Airwalks. My finger is indeed void of ring of any form, most especially a diamond. Their hair was groomed and makeup impeccable...even in the heat of the pool...my hair was up, thrown into some form of a bun/ ponytail combo. Last night's glitter eye makeup is still sparkling in bits and pieces on my face, not to be outshined by the giant bags under my eyes from being up too late. And there were certainly no tattoos in sight...yet you could see part of my Kayla tattoo plain as day, and Kayla was sporting a Sleeping Beauty fake tattoo on her forearm. Now what is my point? I love who I am. I love who I am as a person, 27 years old, independent, chaotic, neurotic, obsessive, fun, full of love and life and sometimes yes a bit crazy. I love what I am as a mother, the steady presence, the one to go the extra mile and stick my neck out and take on what needs to be taken on to for Kayla, her protector, her biggest fan, but also fun and the mother who just wants to give her everything, whether its always within my means or not. Me having tattoos, or not wearing Mom jeans or rocking a big diamond, does not make me any less of a mother, any less of a woman than the women I encountered tonight are. I know lots of moms like me, in their 20's, single, tattooed, dressed stylishly, and this holds true for them too. They are good moms, hardworking moms, moms that would do anything for their kids. Yet the fact remains that not one mother spoke to me. And they looked pitingly at Kayla in the locker room as she cried because she didn't want to go home, like poor baby and her trashy single mom. Well guess what, she has a mother who is just as good as you are, maybe not as old, but just as good. Why did I let these women get to me? I felt self concious, even though I felt no need to offer apologies for who I or Kayla are. We are ourselves, beautiful, whole, imperfect, and you can take us or leave us. I just hate feeling, in the year 2009, when there are more single mothers in this country than ever, that we are a rare, unfortunate and inconvinent breed. I have very few places I have felt out of place, but this was one of them, because in their silence, it was unspoken that I threw off their secure, married, middle aged ratio. Well, let me tell you...half of all marriages end in divorce so at some point, one of those women will be a single mom. They just won't be as young or stylish attired to find themselves a man as I am...I jest, I jest, but I am serious about feeling outcast. I hate the Mommy competition. Old, young, inked, non-tattooed, polished or unkempt, we should all just come together and realize that as women, as mothers, we need to build ourselves up and not tear each other down. If we want our children to be accepting of everyone, to love themselves, how can we show them exactly the opposite? I don't have tolerance for the cattiness, the judgements of women. I want Kayla, as a woman, to be accepting, to love herself free from and in spite of the judgements of others, and to not succumb to the pressures women place on each other. These women proved to me tonight I have a lot of work to do as the mother of a girl in order to break the cycle. Quite a bit.