Monday, March 31, 2014
11:14 AM | Posted by Wide Lawns | | Edit Post
Last week I read this hilarious post on Babble by Jon Taylor (alas, not of Duran Duran, but how cool would that be if he were writing about parenting?) about the parents you will meet when your kid starts school and it was so spot on. I was dying, because this year my daughter started preschool and I have met every single one of the parents he refers to.
And, um, I am one of them.
I confess. Fiesta Mom, right here, folks. I used to be the social butterfly who went sociopathic from isolation once my baby was born and now I'm all like "WOOO!! My kid is in school! Did someone say BAKE SALE? Can we plan something?? You wanna come over for a playdate? Now? How about in an hour? Should we do dinner?" Yeah, that would be me, except since I don't drink and am Queen Teetotaler, I'm Fiesta Mom Sans Margarita, unless it's frozen, strawberry and virginal.
My sister also thinks I am part Whole Foods Mom, but I swear, I only dabble in the Whole Foods lifestyle. When you have met a full fledged Whole Foods Mom, you know that I'm just a wanna-be skirting around on the quinoa fringe. There may be nutritional yeast in my fridge, but I have to draw the line at kombucha.
That said, the delightful Mr. Taylor, not of Duran Duran, because that one has an 'h," left off a few of the wonderful and fascinating parents that I have met, so I decided to add to his list.
Without further ado:
J Crew Mom
You will know her by her topknot. Her polka dots are perfect. Her shoes, which never match her outfit, actually do match because she's wearing them and she is that stylish. On J Crew Mom, animal prints look classy and she's never without her pearls. She's a Seven Sisters grad, Junior League president and her children are decked in Janie & Jack, not purchased on sale. She often expresses disbelief when others don't go away on fabulous vacations during their school breaks. "What? We got a great deal on that lovely beachfront cottage on St. John. It came with its own 42 foot Hans Christian and a captain! It was only $3,000.00" Per person, lady. PER PERSON.
Hot Mess Mom
Whenever Hot Mess Mom rolls up in her mini-van and slides open the door to get her kids out of their car seats, an avalanche of old toys, empty, used sippy cups, smashed goldfish, crumpled Chick-fil-a bags, Little Golden Books and possibly even the family dog tumbles out onto the pavement. She's a disaster. She wears nothing yoga pants although she has never once been to a yoga class. Her hair is in a scrappy pony tail, she never volunteers, always looks exhausted or possibly hung over and she brings her kids to school with Pop-Tart remnants on their faces and sprinkles in their hair. What? You don't feed your kids sprinkles for breakfast? Hot Mess Mom just doesn't know how you all do it everyday, but she's proud of her Slacker status, just don't expect a play date invite from her. Her house is too messy and she's beat. Full disclosure - sometimes I am Hot Mess Mom. Sometimes we are all Hot Mess Mom, so don't judge.
Trailer Trash Mom
Trailer Trash Mom is a good 15 years younger than all the other parents and she rolls up in a hot pink Dodge Neon with a Hello-Kitty sticker, a memorial to a dead friend and a parking sticker from the community college that expired three years ago on the back window. She may also have rims on her car and it's difficult to tell which kids are hers and which are her boyfriend's. Trailer Trash Mom wears Marvin the Martian pajama pants everywhere, especially to Wal-Mart which is where she goes after drop-off and yes, dammit, she's leaving her two pit bulls in the car while she shops for Otter Pops and cases of Mountain Dew for the kids. Don't worry, she'll roll the windows down. Her children have names that make them sound like villains in fantasy novels and of course she has them all tattooed on her shoulder. Her other tattoos are misspelled, but it's okay, y'all. Trailer Trash Mom just wants us to know that "U Have to Beleev in Luv." Also, she may be pregnant again but it might be the Red Hot Cheetos catching up to her. Hard to tell.
Hipster Mom is simply pretending to be white trash, you know, ironically. She has a trust fund and that Bettie Page 'do she sports? Those bangs are clipped at the hottest salon in town. Her kids are named Harvey and Stella Mae because old people names are super cool. Hipster Mom has always been cool and always ahead of the trends. She misses her heydays back in the 90s when she got her art degree at Bennington and went to Burning Man before it sold out. You have never heard of any of the music she listens to and don't even try to act like you have because Hipster Mom is clinging hard to her hipness and she will prove that you can still have children and wear vintage Smiths tee shirts and boots that lace up to her knees and dammit, Hipster Mom WILL go to Coachella even though she's 40! Stella Mae, don't even dream of liking Justin Bieber because Mama will disown you. Please, listen to Sigur Ros in your car seat instead, darling.
This woman can do literally anything with a Mason Jar. Anything. She has glass beads drilled into her wood fence, puts Epsom salts on her tomato plants, has all of her slow cooker recipes filed into a hand-made, calico covered, laminated file folder that she sewed by hand and she can make a Halloween costume out of some tulle and toilet paper rolls in about ten seconds flat. She makes her own scented play-do for the love of God. Pinterest Mom has a full crafting room in her house. Okay, actually it's her dining room, but come on, she's making so much money from her Etsy Shop that soon she'll be able to buy a twee farmhouse with a shabby chic chicken coop in the yard! Some moms think Pinterest Mom makes the rest of us look bad. I say, go on with your crafting self, Pinterest Mom. How about you be in charge of the classroom crafts and save me a trip to Michael's? Oh and, can I please use your Silhouette cutting machine? That thing looks awesome!! And yes, I have followed all of her boards.
Her sugar-daddy must have bought her that Mustang and somehow she's managed to fit the car seat in there for her daughter Havyn-Allure. There's simply no way that this woman could have gotten up at the crack of dawn and gotten dressed in...that. No way. She had to have just gotten off of work at the club, ran home and picked up her kid to take her to school. I mean, right? Who wears a leather mini and a, what is that thing, a headband? As a...shirt? Her nipples are barely covered, people!! And whenever Stripper Mom shows up in the pick-up or drop-off she nearly causes several fender benders because all the other parents are trying to crane their necks to look at her and perhaps snap some stealth photos of her because no one can believe that anyone, much less the mother of a preschooler, would ever, in a million years, show up at their daughter's school pretty much naked. True story, readers. Only in South Florida.
Yoga Mom is not to be confused with Whole Foods Mom. Entirely different animal. Yoga Mom has never been spotted in anything other than Lululemon apparel. Ever. Even when she's not on her way to her latest hour and a half with Bikram. Which is often. Yoga Mom is fit and her boobs are silicone. She's tanned and may have lip injections - either that or she just naturally looks like a platypus. And honestly, screw that Whole Foods BS. Yoga Mom doesn't eat (food? RUFKM?). She's fueled by skinny soy lattes and she experiences food vicariously through her children, upon whom she lavishes fast food kid's meals because this woman doesn't cook. Her Viking range has never been used. The light in Yoga Mom honors the light in you. Unless you piss her off and then she gets mean. Don't mess with Yoga Mom. She's hungry.
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