Hey! So you’re interested in joining our Moms group?
We’ve been looking for some new blood since Shannon ditched carbs and in turn, us, for CrossFit. We should have seen it coming when her entire wardrobe was overtaken by lycra. Hindsight’s 20/20. We miss her for sure, but if her 2012 paleo obsession is any indication, it’s only about six months before she’s back on the radar.
Should things with you pan out, don’t worry. There’s room for both. Especially if you know the M.C. Kat rap from Paula Abdul’s 1988 smash hit “Opposites Attract” as well as our friend Kate, who’s spending the year abroad. We do that number at karaoke and losing her contribution is really putting a damper on the performance.
We have no weekly meetings, but it’s likely that there just aren’t enough ENTJ personalities in this current configuration. (BTW, what’s your Myers Briggs type? It’s fine if you don’t know, but we all took the quiz last time we went out for overpriced cocktails, so you may want to catch up. I hadn’t learned so much about myself since Buzzfeed confirmed I’m 95% Rachel Greene. Fascinating.)
That’s not to say that we’re ever truly out of touch. I mean, just last week my phone vibrated clear off the counter because Jen lit up our Messenger thread with preschool birthday party politics peppered with Friday Night Lights gifs.
Resist the urge to cry at work, and find yourself falling apart in the bulk aisle at Whole Foods instead? Fire off a text, sister. We’ll talk you down long before you’ve self medicated with $40 worth of chocolate covered granola.
Wonder if that romper you’re trying on while shopping with your tween at Urban Outfitters crosses the line into “cry for help?” Snap a selfie. We’ll be honest.
Clearly, it’s a magical time to be alive.
We’d love to catch up in person more frequently, but truthfully this whole “long days, short years” business where we squeeze soccer games and board meetings, 50 hour work weeks and nightly homework battles all into the course of seven days, ad infinitum (until it’s not, I guess) makes for quality over quantity.
This is the part where I should mention that most of our shared time is spent out of the company of our children. It’s not that we don’t love being with them, it’s just that it’s damaging to their developing psyches to hear us talk about what insufferable assholes they can be.
However, in the event you have one that’s still in that potted plant phase, by all means, feel free to bring him or her along. We all love an evening of the ovary shattering game Pass the Baby. Most of us have crested the ass-wiping stage of motherhood and can see the glory that is the other side. We’re not going back, but damned if those chunky little goobers aren’t completely intoxicating. (Especially because we can hand them back over when they cry or shit halfway up to their ears.)
Also worth noting, our gatherings are by no means a four-hour airing of child-related grievances. Sure, that accounts for some of the time, but it’s squeezed in between unboxing lifetimes worth of body issues, vibrator recommendations, dramatic reenactments of our favorite 80’s films, and Netflix binge recommendations.
When we do connect with children in tow, it’s a little “Lord of the Flies” meets “Troop Beverly Hills.” I mean, no one’s wearing fur (ok, not on a regular basis. And relax. It’s vintage), but we pretty much ignore the kids altogether unless someone has a bone sticking out or lights a trash can on fire. (Though we’re willing to experiment with ways to ensure a team of firefighters crash another get-together. Perhaps, next time, sans pants.)
There is no obligation to share babysitter contacts among the group. That shit is SACRED. None of us are going to text you photos of our kids rashes and ask you to assist in diagnosis. Nor are we going to ask you to start hocking mascara or protein shakes (and we’re going to have to ask you to promise the same. Pinkies out.)
So, if you’re up for it, we’d love to connect.
In the event you host, don’t clean your house for us. In fact, if one of us is coming over, grind a few fistfuls of potato chips into the carpet and scatter that pile of unopened (maybe even late) bills clear across the kitchen counter. Leave the dishes in the sink, don’t even think of consulting Pinterest for finger food recipes, and if an entire pantry’s worth of snacks resides within your couch cushions, well, consider us friends for life.