My super-eager son, who is smitten with your children/his classmates asks me EVERY day " when are the sisters coming to play?". My heart breaks. I sugar-coat my answer with tenderness and humor. "Oh Baby Boy! Their mom is SO busy, I'm sure she just forgot to call us back!" "Call her again Mom!" he encourages me with the same perseverance that I attempt to instill in him. Thoughts of being pegged as Phone Stalker Mom come to mind. I try to change the subject.
This waiting and wondering is STRESSING me out. My own insecurities seep into my brain like black slime, the SAME slime that plagued me as a teenager in this SAME small town. I know you were a cheerleader, popular and beautiful and I wasn't. You lived in one of the fancy houses up on the hill. I didn't live on the hill. I get it.
I like to think that I've evolved beyond this... but clearly, I haven't. This whole thing makes me feel really, really crappy. My greatest hopes for my sons are high self-esteems, positive thinking, limitless dreams and goals, bottomless hearts, creative wonder, and the ability to push past social barriers and stereotypes. This is what makes me tick as a mother. Could you try to overlook that my kitchen floor is sticky, that I'm overweight and out of shape and that I'm still not "popular"?
So here I sit and type. My heart races and I want to cry. Our kids attend the same school. There are less than 110 students! I am confident that I will be face to face with you too soon. I may have to hear your excuses if you're so inclined to even acknowledge my calls. The worst part... the VERY worst part... what should I tell my baby boy without breaking his spirit and his heart?
|My Baby Boy!|