Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Those mean ol' library moms

The first activity BG and I ever went to was Baby Book Nook at our local library. She was about 8 months old, and I thought it was a Godsend.  Every Wednesday morning, a 20 minute story time targeted directly at 0-2 year olds?  She would be stimulated, entertained, and educated; I might even make friends.   Ahem.

The first time I went, I was kind of disappointed.  The librarian did a nice job, but most of the kids were older. BG didn't care about it much.  But the worst thing?  The moms were cliquey.  No one talked to me.

I was sure it was just because I had never been there before.  They just needed time to get used to me.  So I started going every week.  I got upset when I missed one because I thought that would set me back.  Even when we started swimming lessons on Wednesday mornings, I tried to go to both.  Over time, they started to nod at me when I came in.  I thought my heart would explode with joy.

Then I found my MOM's Club.  I liked them.  I went to playgroups, and sometimes that meant I missed story time.  Then we started traveling.  I missed more. Soon I hadn't gone to story time in months.

This morning, I looked at my calendar and decided to go to the library.  The way I remembered it, it was lovely.  It was another place I belonged.

Except when I walked in the door, those mommies looked at me like they'd never seen me before.   It hadn't been that long.  I remembered them.

BG sat on the floor like the good girl she is.  She stared blankly while we sang "If you're happy and you know it."  She only half smiled when I tickled her.

Then, during free play time at the end, she stood up and walked straight out the door of the meeting room.  She paused to see the fish, checked the bookshelves, then walked to the elevator. 

I hear you, sweetie.

6 comments:

  1. Ahhh who needs those mommies ;-)

    I've been there; tried with my first child but didn't click with any of the moms. Having a child as the common denominator doesn't mean we're automatically friends. But we try.

    Now with my second I havent' joined any groups, and as much as I go stir crazy some days to me it's just easier that way.

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  2. They did the same to me.

    What I've TRAINED my mind to say is It's not me.

    It's them.

    They don't know the first thing about kindness, manners, being civil, being polite, being what we're meant to be. A friend to everyone we meet.

    They weren't polite: polite people welcome all.

    You don't have to be besties, but you do have to say hello, and nice to see you. Why don't they know this?

    Way I teach my children, anyway.

    Grrrl. it's why I started my blog 2 years ago: had it with the witches.

    NOT YOU, it's THEM.

    You would welcome a new person, because that's what you're like.

    Not every one has the altruism gene, you will find.

    You got us, just sit there and tweet away and I'll send you something funny to read back and then you can stifle a laugh to show what cool and funny interweb friends you have, b/c you're a cool twitter hot mama...

    Love you, girl.

    xo

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    Replies
    1. I wonder too why they don't know this? Isn't it taught anymore?? I'm going to teach my daughter to be loving and kind.

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  3. I am with the Empress on this one! It is totally them . . . which is too bad because they missed out on getting to know a really great person . . . yes that is you I am talking about.

    Basically, you should feel sorry for them because their narrow minded ways means that they miss out on getting to know all sorts of really cool people. Also, the become fodder for blog posts where they come off as really not nearly as cool as they think they are! ;)
    Jenn

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  4. HEY GIRL!!

    Clicked over from BLOGHER!

    This is amazing, I hope you get a lot of new people here, b/c you are the real deal.

    Congrats, again!

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  5. I just don't get it AT ALL. What's wrong with including someone? Does it really kill them to say hi? I hope I'm never that person who is so exclusive. It would really bother me if I hurt someone. I don't understand the satisfaction that they get from not being nice.

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