I went to the local Parent Center for a "Baby and Me" group today.
I took Chris.
Chris, you totally didn't even deserve that. You've been a man among men recently.
Anyway, I took Lilly and she was a champ because she doesn't have to worry about traditional baby things like "naps" or "not being able to take over the world."
By the way, the other day Sam asked me what "champ" meant. I was all, "Um. It means you are great? Like you did a good job at something? Like a champ . . . ion?"
Stupid four-year-olds and their incessant questioning.
It's like a damn IQ test all the time around here.
"What is this for?"
"What does that mean?"
"Oooo, sorry, points off for sarcasm, Mom."
So the group was fine.
It got me wondering about why I hadn't gone before. Like when I was home with Sam for 9 months, or when I was on maternity leave with Owen or Lilly.
And then I remembered it's because I'm a terrible with people.
When I meet people, there are only three possible outcomes:
1) I don't like them. Like the lady this morning who was all, "Bouncers! I can't believe how people have all these THINGS for their babies! Babies survived for millions of years without all this STUFF! I don't get why people get so caught up with 'keeping up with the Joneses!'" Um, I don't know, maybe because of how babies scream a lot, you asshat. It's not like I bought all these loud plastic things for showing off. Come in, come in! Oh, that old thing? Just a giant plastic baby holder I picked up the last time we swung by the South of France.
2) They don't like me. Like the skinny lady in the skinny jeans who is a stay-at-home mom and doesn't find my rant about how I wish Lilly would slow it down very funny. Trust me, I totally was.
3) They act friendly and I'm suspicious. Like, wow, I'm not really sure I want to hang out with someone with standards that low. They'd probably be friendly with a rock. And what am I going to get out of hanging out with a person who talks to rocks? And then she'd probably be one of those people who is all NEEDY and I have enough needy people in my life. I call them my children. The last thing I need is some lady calling me up 5 time a day all, "I keep calling you and you don't answer!" Yeah, I know. It was exhausting ignoring all those phone calls. So I just assume that anyone showing interest in "getting coffee" is actually a crazy stalker.
In any event, I went, it was fine.
There are some really ugly babies out there.
So Lilly tried to eat their faces.