2285674443_e981f4d1fa_m1You know that kid movie about the woolly mammoth who thinks he’s the last woolly mammoth on earth? When he realizes he’s one step away from total extinction?

I know what he feels like.

I know it’s strange. It’s not like I don’t have friends (really, I do). But there just seems to be a lot of moms who I just either don’t get or don’t want to get.

Lemme break it down for you:

The 40/50 Somethings:

They’re older then me, focused on career first, started families later and are just in a totally different place in their lives than I am (a better place). Damn. Why didn’t I do that? I can’t be seen with these people and I definitely can’t invite them over to my crappy house.

The 9-5ers

I know, seems kind of weird for me to point this out since I work 9-5, but there something about people not being able to fathom the idea of working at night or over the weekend (something my husband does every week) that is just wrong. What makes working on the weekend such a far fetched, crazy idea for these people? It’s not like I’m stripping (eh, anymore) or something.


There are a lot of moms who stay home. Good for them, but did they accept my husband as a SAHD (who also works at night and weekends)? Um, not really. Oh they were nice, but let’s just say the invites for play dates or coffee did not flood our phone lines. Paranoid suburbanites–probably worried my hunk of burnin’ love would make their husbands’ jealous.

The God Obsessed:

Ah, the religious types. The ones who are so nice and sweet and the minute they find out that you haven’t signed up to play on their specific team, they kind of give that disapproving, “oh…” and then the conversation kind of fizzles out from there. Am I missing something? Don’t most churches teach about acceptance? Oh right, that’s why I’m a drop out.

The Drama Queens:

You know who I’m talking about. The ones with too many kids, too many obligations, too many side projects, too much of everything to just kick back and have a beer with you. The perpetual state of chaos makes me jumpy (no, it’s not the meds). Who needs that?

The White Trash Bitches:

If the 40/50 somethings have too much, these people are at the other end of the spectrum–chain smoking, drinking in the middle of the day (ok, I can relate to that one), police visits to the house–it’s all a little too much for me to overlook.  So, we only hang out over the weekends (if they aren’t serving time).

The Foreigners:

Am I the only one who is  totally uncomfortable when a mom (who I had been talking to in English not two seconds ago) and her kid go off on a tirade in a foreign language when they know I have no idea what they are saying? WTF? Or maybe I’m just bitter I can’t speak another language.

The Gossip Girls:

High school is never as far away as you would like to think it is.  Closely related to the SAHM, this mom breed can’t get enough of other peoples’ misfortunes. I’m so out of the loop. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

My Peeps:

So what kind of people do I want to hang out with?

My peeps are creative and funny and drink beers on sunny afternoons.

My peeps may live in a crappy house but they work hard and are rich with personality and integrity.

My peeps respect every gender, race, religion and couldn’t give a shit about gay marriage.

My peeps have as many kids as they can handle and don’t ask me why I only have one.

My peeps know an annual family vacation isn’t a given.

My peeps show up on my doorstep with a bottle of wine and no agenda.

My peeps are so awesome they make me feel lucky to have known them.