They are warming up a spot for me down yonder

One of the aspects I don’t appreciate about motherhood is the Other Mothers. Some other moms are good eggs. But the Other Ones? Nuh uh. Those are the ones that when you realize that you and your child will be entwined with both the kid and the mother until high school graduation, you want to pack your bags and move far, far away. There were a few of these when Loren was younger. (And they do seem to be more pesky during the younger years when you have to accompany your kids places and make small chat with The Others.) These moms were pretty awful. We had nothing in common and I remember a few times when I had to take a valium to actually go to activities where they were. I have long since run out of that prescription and now must face the Others straight and fully functioning. Sigh.
There is one mom in Cassidy’s age group that takes the cake. Her name is Christi Small. And her awfulness is not small at all, it is huge. Simply put, I loathe her. As in an Austin Powers sort of loooooooaaaaattthhhhheeeeee her. I have every right to feel this way. I am not sure if I have ever written about her at Caloden, but I have to mention that in the most of mature ways that she started it all. When she and her family moved here from a tony section of Michigan, she set about making her mark on the school. She volunteered for everything, brought all sorts of fancy snacks and never once hesitated to mention about all the committees she participated in and how much she loved giving, giving, giving. This would have been annoying enough, but when she started sending notes home with Cassidy about her unacceptable behavior and how it was confusing her two girls, I started to get upset. Then when she wanted to meet over decaf coffee and suggest books on how I could better raise my heathen daughter, I got even more put out. And then when she started to email me with hints about what sort of books I could read to be a better mother, I had to draw the line. I could have tolerated her from a distance but when she went after my daughter and my parenting, I couldn’t go there. Her daughters are awful. I have seen one of them kick her in the shin because her birthday party was not grand enough. I have seen the other one bully kids and boss them about senselessly.
Fortunately, I don’t have to deal with Ms. Small too much anymore since Cassidy transfered school, but every soccer season I have to face this woman. Her youngest and Cass play on the same team. They are both very athletic and play well on the team together. Tonight I got a call from Christi and I cringed when I saw her number on caller ID. I picked it up to hear her horrid, perky voice announcing that her husband is the assistant coach and that she is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO excited to be the manager. Barf. An entire season of sugary emails and perky phone calls from this bitch. So when she asked if it was a convenient time for me I said, in the only way I could have possibly replied, “Yeah, I guess so. What do you want?” She stammered, obviously uncomfortable with my open declaration of impatience. She then went on to unload her happy line about soccer excitement and all the things Cassidy would need to practice. When I informed her that we have been at the soccer gig for quite a few years and that I knew it can rain in the afternoons, she tripped up and there was a small silence. I reveled in her discomfort and almost giggled when she told me in a very small voice that she would look forward to seeing Cass on the field. She started to babble and I cut her off, telling her I had things to do.
The thing is is that I felt fabulous for treating her so badly. I know it’s awful of me, but I did. I love to fuck with this woman. Her goody goodiness requires her to be civil. Her desire to be The Best Fucking Mom EVER drives her to be obnoxious and call all the other soccer moms in the most cheery way EVER. And I despise her for it. I hate that she tries to passive aggressively tell other people how to parent. I hate that she flaunts her wealth and tells everybody how great her little plot on the golf course is. I hate her new mini van. I hate the annual Christmas picture cards with the whole family in coordinating outfits, especially when she must know I throw out the card when I see the return address. I know I am petty. She is awful and obnoxious. She does a lot of good volunteer things with all of her time. But I love treating her badly. I love doing it because I can.
Of course I might have to transfer Cassidy to a different soccer league because of my behavior, but what can I do? I can’t be friends with this bitch. The other soccer leagues are better and more aggressive, it might all be better in the long run. Sometimes my maturity stuns even me….

This is from a hike I took today with Loren and his friend Josh. It was gorgeous and so peaceful.