Thursday, May 04, 2006
Several months ago, some mommies stopped attending my breastfeeding support group. I recently discovered they'd formed their own playgroup. I need a playgroup. I dig up one of the mommies' e-mails (from a list that also had my name and e-mail on it, incidentally) and ask if they're accepting members. Sure, she says.
I chalk up the fact that they didn't ask me to join in the first place to them being busy, it just didn't occur to them, they didn't think I'd be interested, etc. I feel I should just get over it.
After the first meeting, I ask the next hostess if I can bring along my good friend who's recently returned to the area with her children. Sure, the hostess says. I bring her. She gets along swimmingly with everyone. I ask the next hostess if I can bring my friend. Sure, she says. She comes along, everything's great. By this week, I was hoping they'd ask my friend to join the group on their own.
This morning, I get an e-mail from one of the members. They really couldn't allow my friend to come to more playgroups, the writer said, because it was getting too big. (This group has four mommies, not counting me or my friend.) They'd made an exception for me in the first place, anyway.
I need a playgroup again.
In a weird postscript, my friend says their rejection doesn't bother her. When I asked her about getting together tomorrow, she said she couldn't, because she was going to hang out with one of the rejection mommies.
I think I'm gonna start my own clique. I keep getting shut out of the other ones.
Be honest. I'm just too weird, right?
Oh yeah, and here's the best part ... I couldn't even join the blood-donation clique today. I tried to give during the company drive, but it turns out my semester in London 14 years ago has exposed me to mad cow disease, meaning I'm on the no-fly list indefinitely.
I'm a mad cow, now, all right.
I chalk up the fact that they didn't ask me to join in the first place to them being busy, it just didn't occur to them, they didn't think I'd be interested, etc. I feel I should just get over it.
After the first meeting, I ask the next hostess if I can bring along my good friend who's recently returned to the area with her children. Sure, the hostess says. I bring her. She gets along swimmingly with everyone. I ask the next hostess if I can bring my friend. Sure, she says. She comes along, everything's great. By this week, I was hoping they'd ask my friend to join the group on their own.
This morning, I get an e-mail from one of the members. They really couldn't allow my friend to come to more playgroups, the writer said, because it was getting too big. (This group has four mommies, not counting me or my friend.) They'd made an exception for me in the first place, anyway.
I need a playgroup again.
In a weird postscript, my friend says their rejection doesn't bother her. When I asked her about getting together tomorrow, she said she couldn't, because she was going to hang out with one of the rejection mommies.
I think I'm gonna start my own clique. I keep getting shut out of the other ones.
Be honest. I'm just too weird, right?
Oh yeah, and here's the best part ... I couldn't even join the blood-donation clique today. I tried to give during the company drive, but it turns out my semester in London 14 years ago has exposed me to mad cow disease, meaning I'm on the no-fly list indefinitely.
I'm a mad cow, now, all right.
