Oh no, not again...

Seriously? Seriously...I can't do this again. I cannot be the new kid again that no one talks to. It's ridiculous. Why are women so horrible?? HORRIBLE.

So a long time ago, like 6 years ago, we were "the new people" in Roselawn. Alex was new to school, we were new parents to the school, whatever. Did anyone welcome us? No. Did anyone ask us if we wanted to get involved? No. Clearly they have enough people involved, right? HA! Do you have kids in school? There's no such thing as enough parent involvement. I wasn't working when we first moved down there, so I volunteered. Market Day. Nice, easy...I like food. It was a clear choice for me. Now I'll admit, I'm a fairly young mother of a 13-year-old. I had Alex when I was 21...so when we moved there he was only 7 and starting the 2nd grade. I was 28. Not a pup, but clearly younger than some of the other moms working the Market Day. Who didn't talk to me. Not even a little bit. Who did talk to me? Renee. She was someone's sister and only 13. She thought I was someone's older cooler high-school age sister (good for the old ego, bad when you want to buy a six-pack and left your ID in the car), which is why she talked to me. When I told her I was someone's mom she totally freaked. And that's how I found my first babysitter in our new area.

Anyway, I've been struggling to fit in for 6 years. 6 YEARS, people! And finally, I do. I invite local people to my house, and they actually come. I show up to volunteer for things, and people actually talk to me. I have the president of the school board's home phone and the principal and I talk trash about kicking each other's asses on the volleyball court. This past Christmas, Owen had a function, and it took me a good 15 minutes to walk from one side of the gym to the other where my parents were sitting for saying hello to all of the parents I've gotten to know through Scouts, PTA...you know the drill. My dad asked Kevin if I was running for office. Good ole Harry. We're comfortable...things are good.

And then we sent Alex to private school.
And we're the new people all over again.
And I'm the young mom, comparitively. And no.one.talks.to.me.

The 7th graders host the 8th grade graduation each year and the parents have to supply the food, set up and tear down the fellowship hall. Good times. I'm a go-getter...I'm involved...I can make punch, even without alcohol. I am so in.

I get there last night and I'm standing there in the vestibule and 3 other moms are standing not 15 feet away from me. They all know who I am. None of them are making any effort to talk to me. I politely say hello and move on. We are all supposed to be servers, so we sit in the back of the church knowing we'll have to duck out before it's over to start putting the food out. 6 moms are all sitting on one side of the aisle, one of whom I KNOW was in the "new church members" class with us, and she's scoots right in with them and starts chatting away. I'm sitting on the other side by myself. When we go downstairs, I just start putting stuff out on the table...no one talks to me, even when I try to start casual conversation "Can you believe the year is over?" "Can you believe next year this will be us?" One word answers. Do I have something hanging out of my nose? Am I showing too much cleavage? No and no. I have the best hair I've ever had in my whole life! I'm totally presentable. I specifically asked Kathy if I was appropriately dressed in my black skirt and top...she confirmed I look okay for 8th grade graduation. She's more conservative than I and said I looked fine. Who is this crazy lady making small talk? This isn't me...what in the world am I doing???

Is it really just that I'm new? The only people I talked to all night was the principal and Alex's teacher. The principal was very cordial as we had just spent an evening together at the fantastic Kiwanis banquet where we all wanted to shoot ourselves. He's a really nice guy. I'm trying to get him an in with the NN school corp as superintendent. I wish they would keep him as principal at Trinity, but alas, they're all wrapped up in him not being a parochial school principal.

And then when I'm doing dishes, someone finally says something to me. A hint of casual conversation. "Will Alex be with us next year?" Crazy staring mom says to me. CSM and I have had encounters in the past. She's one of those look you up and down kind of people that make you uncomfortable, you know the type. Wears big jewelry and outfits that actually match top and bottom AND the jewelry, wears too much make up and WAY too much hairspray. She almost never smiles. She grins. With her lips pursed together. I felt like I was on trial. I acknowledge that yes, Alex will be back next year. Now she's standing next to me at the table, visibly and obviously giving me the once over. "Such a pretty girl" she says. I'm not making this up. She can't be more than 40, if that...how old does she think I am?? And then corrects herself and says "Lady...such a pretty lady" clearly aware of how condescending she sounded. UGH. I want to melt into the floor. Girl. GIRL? Lady? Does she hear herself? How about, "that's a pretty outfit" or "that's the best hair I've ever seen in my whole life!" Instead she mutters about me being a pretty girl like some Bette Davis character in a serial killer movie. Maybe I'm exaggerating.

So the school year is over, and I have the summer to not be the new kid on the block (Oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhhh...the right stuff!). We'll see what happens next year.