Misfit Mom

I have come to the realization that I am never going to fit in with the other Moms at preschool. I've tried-- I've struggled and molded my regular-Haley self into my preschool-Haley self, and they are still not convinced. As they shouldn't be. It's all a big, calculated illusion for the masses.

I don't drive a minivan. I will NEVER drive a minivan. I don't wear capri pants. I don't LIKE capri pants. They are for Grandmas and people who join the PTA. I don't want to help with the Silent Auction or the School Planning Committee, or Field Day.  I don't want to make costumes for the Christmas Show.  I don't want to be Class Mom, Preschool Representative, or a chaperone for a trip to the fire station.

 I want to roll into school wearing jeans, flip flops, and a Drop Kick Murphys t-shirt and organize a trip to the zoo where we will formulate a plan to free the giraffes. (Unless, of course, they enjoy their living arrangements. Then they are welcome to stay.)  I want to teach a Friday class for the kids on how to mix Mommy a strong cocktail and send them home with a gift bag containing a bottle of vodka and some olives. I want to blow off the fall party, take the kids on a ghost walk, and then make Edgar Allan Poe crafts with feathers and a lot of glitter.  

Somehow, I doubt the other preschool Moms would go for that.

This is why I don't have any Mom friends.