Revolutionary Road

I'm sitting looking down at my body. Is it my body? Good lord! My breasts - my beautiful once perky breasts that once stood to attention are now permanently at ease. My pouch that once incubated my little girl stares back at me. My boobs are actually sitting, nay, resting on my tummy as i type - too lazy to just sit still, they are passed out, lying comatose on the top roll of my post baby body. Ahh, yes, of course it is worth it. Blah. Blah. Let's call that a given. My daughter is without a doubt the greatest blessing I will ever receive...but let's call a spade a spade. It's an all out assault on the female body. If you are one of those women whose stomach went straight back to being flat, then i can only assume that you had that little sucker pop out early and scheduled a tummy tuck with that C section. Either that or you are just one of those horrid women...I met one the other day...lemme tell you...

So, i was at a 4th July party. I know noone, i just moved here remember...all my husband's friends. We arrive and within 5 minutes the men are outside the front of the house checking out a souped up classic car sucking on beer from a cooler (suburbia is standing outside the front of the house) while I am abandoned in a room of new mothers drinking bottles of water because two of them had run a half marathon that morning ( i dont even have time to do a TaeBo DVD) and the other was a bonified wetnurse. Sure, i'll take a water...and a valium...thanks! After being handed my red, white and blue plastic beaker with my name neatly applied on the side. Yes, that's paula. P-a-u-l-a..i mean, there are 8 of us at this bbq - know your guests. As i take the water from the host's hand i realize that everything is red, white and blue. The napkins, the cupcakes, the frosting, the hair ties in the toddler's hair and then i see that the other women have also dressed in accordance. I am dressed in my trademark black, it's slimming, i like it and i'm in mourning for my life. I digress.  I chortle...Oh, did i miss the memo on the dress code? Tumbleweed #1. They look at me, look at each other and then look down at themselves before acting like it is a surprise. Really. I mean, really. Well, as the Brit in the room, it kinda makes sense for me to wear black today...it was all planned, honest...i smile. Tumbleweed #2. They smile and then move onto a conversation about frosting. oh lord - i feel like i am in the real desperate housewives of Portland or Wilsonville, or wherever i am...somewhere off some highway in a cul de sac of homes that look like something out of a Tim Burton movie. The rest of the day drags. I am "introduced" to a drink of champagne( fizzy wine) and cranberry juice and given the calorie content of various other entities. I hear you can buy great baby blankets at "Nordy's".  I could in detail describe the nurseries and baby shower gifts each of these women received and of course the birth experiences...except they weren't like any I have shared with women before - you know about enemas, hemerrhoids, peeing under the epidural and thinking your waters had broken. Nope, this was all about how easy it was, who had the quickest push and the least stitches. At one point I started laughing and asked what they all talked about before the babies came...tumblewed #3

Then one of these skinny sunbed hags tells me nlot to worry that my baby is chunky. Her 3 year old was chunky and even now is fat. Umm, i'm not worried, i say. She's super healthy and i love those extra folds (folds are a must on babies). Who calls their 3 old fat except for a tummy tucked scrag? This same devil lady (who is also a BF nazi but don't get me started on that) when reprimanding her obese toddler (!) utters the words"if you say that again I will pop you in the mouth!" umm, not sure i read that in What to Expect. I decide in a room of 4 people to never speak to this woman again. Of course i do, i keep trying to charm her (have i misunderstood her?) but no, she's just horrid. Have decided. WILL NOT BEFRIEND HER ON FB. EVER. 

ANYWAY, these were some of the first moms i met in Oregon. As we drove away and I ranted to Tom, he said, so, i guess you didnt enjoy yourself? An image of our old life in NYC flashed before me, carefree, inebriated, funny...not necessarily in that order. Honey, you would have been more worried if i had, i answered.