From a young girls eyes, it looks better.
Viewed by what is allowable with light. She sees it, without knowing how it really works.
She watches them, looking forward to when she's on the other side, like they are.
Glad to know that someday, the only exclusion, will be that of light, contractually her own.
Regulating light, as it should be.
From her eyes, she looks forward to being attached like they are, someday.
She sees them sitting next to one another.
Clapping and smiling.
Taking turns in drops, and dishes.
Cheering, and matching each others clothing, the only exception is the display of their supporting number, or name.
She sees them standing in line, talking together, watching, as they sign up to help on set days, from the list on the blackboard. She hears her own calling for help, calling in a substitute, and yet again, they come and help.
She watches as they share Kleenex, passing it down the rows as Names and circumstances are blending together, in words and song.
She hears their whispers, topics ranging from the "for better or for worse," to their own little "favorite lights" of joy. She sees them nodding together, as if there is a conductor guiding their ways, especially on conversations relative towards their "little lights" and any new story, development, or funny saying.
It amazes her how they can look different, have different first names for their "little lights," different jewelry, different smells in their home, and smells of their own, and yet, they're all the same. They work well together, and they are always walking in and out together, whether their arms are full of gear, tears, sweat, playbooks, kids, coats, handbooks, or report cards, they walk together and exit together. Never do you see one of them crying alone, if you see them crying, they're doing it together. Not afraid to smile or talk to the newest member. Oh, and they're always laughing.
Always laughing.
She knows someday she'll be there. But oh how bad does she wish to be there, right now.
She'll be in the very place she currently watches. The Moms that are part of playgroups, up through graduations.
Where there is no judgment.
No rumors. No exclusions. No silence.
No tears. No fear of not wearing the friendship pins, or bracelets. No giggling about being bra-less.
No heads of lice that certain mean girls determine are no longer allowed to be played with. No boyfriend stealing, or cheating off your papers.
She knows as much as she knows, so how can you blame her?
As much as the mind allows at that time of her life.
She doesn't have a tough life, or even a difficult one. Actually you'll see her laughing and smiling, growing and developing in her own unique way. Whether from a pail in hand, or basketball, wearing onesies, to doll clothes. Being sized for Cheerleader outfits, dresses for confirmation, or Easter, Yom Kippur or her Bat Mitzvah.
Training bra's, training wheels, two speed bike, keys to the family van, Graduation Caps and Gowns, she has the ups and downs, but it's typical of youth. However, what she looks forward to, is when the peers in her life, like her, grow up to be "like them up there," Parents. That will signify the end of young girls and their catty nonsense. No more bullies or bullying.
She watches her from a distance. Surrounded by loud, "one ,upping," seasonal, reason or lifetime friends. Not all of them genuine. Some with a personal agenda. Some true and real. But others only in it for attention, or perhaps to take over and remove someones best friend.
She remembers when she was that young girl that couldn't wait to be a Mom, a Parent, because that would mean all girls would be women, and in it together. Getting along. Because that's how it looked. How silly was she to think that it would be different? That the iris of the eye would somehow change what it does. It remained the same, and how surprised was she, when she experienced it, just like she had, on occasion, back when she was a young girl learning how to navigate through social experiences.
There she was, arriving in her 30's, 40's and 50's, (60's have yet to be known), seeing that time may have occurred, but habits and treatment, remained the same. The cattiness and bullying didn't go away when girls turn into Moms.
Nope, it just figures out a new way to insert itself in your "grown up" life. The image her Mom and the others, portrayed, appeared drama free. For they always were in the stands, the crowd, the front yard, school classrooms, basketball court, football bleachers, you name it, together. They were Mom's! They looked like they got along! But growing into a Mom herself, she realized how much worse it seems now, then when she was young. It didn't change, they just developed more unique ways to bully their Mom peers.
They push you out of PTA projects, talk about the ones in the school that don't own their home, only renting. They stop friendships between their children and yours, maybe because of religion, or movies they watch, or just because another Mom and them were talking, and they felt threatened by you. It's true, certain Mom's, for reasons unknown, exclude others in fear, because you pose a threat. Why? Because you're nice, and real, and they want to take that from you. Even if they have better degrees, they're still not satisfied. They turn their back on you when your child earns the starting position over theirs, although they'll "always," talk to you. They box ring themselves up with other Mom's that appear to have the closest relationships with all the teachers, hoping that it will trump them, over the other Mom's that perhaps appear to be a "threat" to them. They discuss your parenting techniques, and even if you're a Super Nanny, they find a way to dislike something. It doesn't end. In fact, for some women, it gets worse.
She looks beyond the picnic benches of all the Mom Parents. They're gathered under the gazebo, and even though they're all Moms. It's still just a grown up mess of how girls treat each other. Sure they're all in it together, celebrating the last day of school with a picnic for their children, but the dynamics of women Mom's, for some, doesn't change. How amazing that she actually used to think that it was "far easier being a Mom." She, like many other Mom's present, not all are bullies remember, feel peace as she watches all the young "lights" running around wearing pure freedom , as their shoes hit the ground of the bouncy recycled tires of their "I wish I had this type of park when I was a kid, " playground park.
Her own special "lights" out on the swings, laughing. Giggling. Some kids are in clusters, some happy to be off on their own. No one crying. At least, not yet. Some playing "Hot Lava Tag" others, "Sharks and Minnows." Girls playing House, or "GIRLS ONLY CLUB HOUSE. Others happy to be kicking a soccer ball around. As a Mom you can see that things are starting to happen with girls and how they interact with others. The same group of girls that go to the same Gymnastic Club, Church Group, JCC, or Sleep Away Camp, but it's manageable.
She remembers being that child, managing the unknown. She remembers feeling that first dose of isolation. When all she wanted to do, was swing on the swings, and her other young friends, decided suddenly, that they'd rather throw sticks at the boys, or go paint their nails. So spontaneous and quick to abandon.
She remembers the way it felt, an odd feeling that made her stomach feel hollow, yet full. It stirred in the pit of her stomach, a strange feeling, emotion that was so unknown. Later realizing that this feeling is a symptom from the diagnose of the word: abandonment, ignorance or exclusion.
This girl, now turned Mom, had a fine upbringing. She wasn't an outcast. She was the typical girl you'd see. But abandonment finds a way to enter into every young girls life, some how, some way. It's necessary, for it's the foundation that prepares the girls to be the Potato or Potahto and of women. You're either the girl alongside the other girls plotting to exclude and ignore, or you're part of the group being picked last, being excluded.
At some point every girl by the time they're in their 30's, will have played both roles.
The only change she experienced, was in the situation: :
No more Kleenex in the bras, or wishing you could be like the girls huddled together, that have all had their period.
The ones that rolled on the Ban, and did the banning too.
The ones that the boys always chased, and the ones the boys would ignore.
The ones that got everything they asked for, and the ones that were poor.
Girls never helped girls that they didn't like.
What's most concerning is how much worse women treat women, when they're much older. It can seem far worse. Perhaps because we know better. There is no longer an excuse. But to witness the way some Mom's treat other Mom's, it's scary. Every Mom knows who they are, whether they admit it or not, and they know who to pick on, who to befriend, and those that are just wonderful no nonsense real happy women. Mom's see it all: whether target, or bystander, witness, or bully, it's just far more crafty, and no longer just about stuffed bras or Creative Cliques.
It's the situations that change:
It's the tight taunt tummies after 4 kids-not one stretch on their bellies!
It's the ones that won't share their recipes with you, but will make sure you know that they gave it to another Mom, made loud and clear!
It's the ones that have create the image that "Parenting is Easy."
It's the Mom's that act like they're perfect! Yes, there are many that appear that way.
It's the ones that make you feel guilty when you don't breast feed, or stay home.
The ones that claim "Mom Jeans" are a joke, and the ones that try to hide the fact that they still smoke.
It's the ones who's daughter looks like the girl from "I-Carly."
The one that the teacher loves, or Coach starts first in very game-yes, there are more situations, but bad news my fellow Mom's:
The bullies exist.
They're just MomBullies.
In their 30's, 40's, 50's.
Put that all together, and you've captured the title of this blog.
That "Girl turned Mom," sighs, amazed at how wrong she was. She turns her head and happens to glance towards a group of "Silverettes" in waistband pants, some widows, some almost there. She smiles as they all laugh and get along, grateful for the wisdom of what their life has taught. She looks forward to the time, when she's that age, when she's a "Silver," and like the other "Silverettes" they'll all get along.
No more worries about tight tummies, for their boobies will be covering their stretch mark free tummies, as they dangle like diamonds, hovering just above the hardwood floor. The only difference is what stage they'll be at, in their 60's: some at retirement, some beyond, and some perhaps just arriving. The exclusions and nonsense from Moms in their 30's, 40's, and 50's, perhaps, maybe, will be all gone.
As the Girl Turned Mom watches the Grandmas of today, while she removes the Tupperware cover, that had been protecting her famous pretzel strawberry salad, she watches her own daughter, her own young "light," happy, on the playground, on one of the many playground swings. Her daughter, the girl on the swing, this recent Grad, whether kindergarten, 5th Grader or 8th Grade Grad, is the one watching all the Moms from the distance that she's in.
She's the one you see on that swing, and she, the young iris observer, watching how her Mom and the other Moms that are under the same gazebo, are all getting along. There is that girl on the swing, looking forward to the day when she and all the other girls in this world, and her world, will get along, and be just like them. The Moms working together, setting out all the food for the picnic, everyone bringing their special yummy dish, even the gluten free Mom's.
"How remarkable how they're all such amazing friends," this girl thinks as she is busy reaching new heights, the chains indicating this, by the noise that they make, the higher she swings.
"No longer the bully or feeling all alone, someday I'll be just like them," she thinks.
After all, our Mom's are the ones that teach us to get along, so of course the exclusions, and silent treatments will all be gone. Maybe someday it will be better. The Mom Bullies no longer bullying, and everyone getting along.
Viewed by what is allowable with light. She sees it, without knowing how it really works.
She watches them, looking forward to when she's on the other side, like they are.
Glad to know that someday, the only exclusion, will be that of light, contractually her own.
Regulating light, as it should be.
From her eyes, she looks forward to being attached like they are, someday.
She sees them sitting next to one another.
Clapping and smiling.
Taking turns in drops, and dishes.
Cheering, and matching each others clothing, the only exception is the display of their supporting number, or name.
She sees them standing in line, talking together, watching, as they sign up to help on set days, from the list on the blackboard. She hears her own calling for help, calling in a substitute, and yet again, they come and help.
She watches as they share Kleenex, passing it down the rows as Names and circumstances are blending together, in words and song.
She hears their whispers, topics ranging from the "for better or for worse," to their own little "favorite lights" of joy. She sees them nodding together, as if there is a conductor guiding their ways, especially on conversations relative towards their "little lights" and any new story, development, or funny saying.
It amazes her how they can look different, have different first names for their "little lights," different jewelry, different smells in their home, and smells of their own, and yet, they're all the same. They work well together, and they are always walking in and out together, whether their arms are full of gear, tears, sweat, playbooks, kids, coats, handbooks, or report cards, they walk together and exit together. Never do you see one of them crying alone, if you see them crying, they're doing it together. Not afraid to smile or talk to the newest member. Oh, and they're always laughing.
Always laughing.
She knows someday she'll be there. But oh how bad does she wish to be there, right now.
She'll be in the very place she currently watches. The Moms that are part of playgroups, up through graduations.
Where there is no judgment.
No rumors. No exclusions. No silence.
No tears. No fear of not wearing the friendship pins, or bracelets. No giggling about being bra-less.
No heads of lice that certain mean girls determine are no longer allowed to be played with. No boyfriend stealing, or cheating off your papers.
She knows as much as she knows, so how can you blame her?
As much as the mind allows at that time of her life.
She doesn't have a tough life, or even a difficult one. Actually you'll see her laughing and smiling, growing and developing in her own unique way. Whether from a pail in hand, or basketball, wearing onesies, to doll clothes. Being sized for Cheerleader outfits, dresses for confirmation, or Easter, Yom Kippur or her Bat Mitzvah.
Training bra's, training wheels, two speed bike, keys to the family van, Graduation Caps and Gowns, she has the ups and downs, but it's typical of youth. However, what she looks forward to, is when the peers in her life, like her, grow up to be "like them up there," Parents. That will signify the end of young girls and their catty nonsense. No more bullies or bullying.
She watches her from a distance. Surrounded by loud, "one ,upping," seasonal, reason or lifetime friends. Not all of them genuine. Some with a personal agenda. Some true and real. But others only in it for attention, or perhaps to take over and remove someones best friend.
She remembers when she was that young girl that couldn't wait to be a Mom, a Parent, because that would mean all girls would be women, and in it together. Getting along. Because that's how it looked. How silly was she to think that it would be different? That the iris of the eye would somehow change what it does. It remained the same, and how surprised was she, when she experienced it, just like she had, on occasion, back when she was a young girl learning how to navigate through social experiences.
There she was, arriving in her 30's, 40's and 50's, (60's have yet to be known), seeing that time may have occurred, but habits and treatment, remained the same. The cattiness and bullying didn't go away when girls turn into Moms.
Nope, it just figures out a new way to insert itself in your "grown up" life. The image her Mom and the others, portrayed, appeared drama free. For they always were in the stands, the crowd, the front yard, school classrooms, basketball court, football bleachers, you name it, together. They were Mom's! They looked like they got along! But growing into a Mom herself, she realized how much worse it seems now, then when she was young. It didn't change, they just developed more unique ways to bully their Mom peers.
They push you out of PTA projects, talk about the ones in the school that don't own their home, only renting. They stop friendships between their children and yours, maybe because of religion, or movies they watch, or just because another Mom and them were talking, and they felt threatened by you. It's true, certain Mom's, for reasons unknown, exclude others in fear, because you pose a threat. Why? Because you're nice, and real, and they want to take that from you. Even if they have better degrees, they're still not satisfied. They turn their back on you when your child earns the starting position over theirs, although they'll "always," talk to you. They box ring themselves up with other Mom's that appear to have the closest relationships with all the teachers, hoping that it will trump them, over the other Mom's that perhaps appear to be a "threat" to them. They discuss your parenting techniques, and even if you're a Super Nanny, they find a way to dislike something. It doesn't end. In fact, for some women, it gets worse.
She looks beyond the picnic benches of all the Mom Parents. They're gathered under the gazebo, and even though they're all Moms. It's still just a grown up mess of how girls treat each other. Sure they're all in it together, celebrating the last day of school with a picnic for their children, but the dynamics of women Mom's, for some, doesn't change. How amazing that she actually used to think that it was "far easier being a Mom." She, like many other Mom's present, not all are bullies remember, feel peace as she watches all the young "lights" running around wearing pure freedom , as their shoes hit the ground of the bouncy recycled tires of their "I wish I had this type of park when I was a kid, " playground park.
Her own special "lights" out on the swings, laughing. Giggling. Some kids are in clusters, some happy to be off on their own. No one crying. At least, not yet. Some playing "Hot Lava Tag" others, "Sharks and Minnows." Girls playing House, or "GIRLS ONLY CLUB HOUSE. Others happy to be kicking a soccer ball around. As a Mom you can see that things are starting to happen with girls and how they interact with others. The same group of girls that go to the same Gymnastic Club, Church Group, JCC, or Sleep Away Camp, but it's manageable.
She remembers being that child, managing the unknown. She remembers feeling that first dose of isolation. When all she wanted to do, was swing on the swings, and her other young friends, decided suddenly, that they'd rather throw sticks at the boys, or go paint their nails. So spontaneous and quick to abandon.
She remembers the way it felt, an odd feeling that made her stomach feel hollow, yet full. It stirred in the pit of her stomach, a strange feeling, emotion that was so unknown. Later realizing that this feeling is a symptom from the diagnose of the word: abandonment, ignorance or exclusion.
This girl, now turned Mom, had a fine upbringing. She wasn't an outcast. She was the typical girl you'd see. But abandonment finds a way to enter into every young girls life, some how, some way. It's necessary, for it's the foundation that prepares the girls to be the Potato or Potahto and of women. You're either the girl alongside the other girls plotting to exclude and ignore, or you're part of the group being picked last, being excluded.
At some point every girl by the time they're in their 30's, will have played both roles.
The only change she experienced, was in the situation: :
No more Kleenex in the bras, or wishing you could be like the girls huddled together, that have all had their period.
The ones that rolled on the Ban, and did the banning too.
The ones that the boys always chased, and the ones the boys would ignore.
The ones that got everything they asked for, and the ones that were poor.
Girls never helped girls that they didn't like.
What's most concerning is how much worse women treat women, when they're much older. It can seem far worse. Perhaps because we know better. There is no longer an excuse. But to witness the way some Mom's treat other Mom's, it's scary. Every Mom knows who they are, whether they admit it or not, and they know who to pick on, who to befriend, and those that are just wonderful no nonsense real happy women. Mom's see it all: whether target, or bystander, witness, or bully, it's just far more crafty, and no longer just about stuffed bras or Creative Cliques.
It's the situations that change:
It's the tight taunt tummies after 4 kids-not one stretch on their bellies!
It's the ones that won't share their recipes with you, but will make sure you know that they gave it to another Mom, made loud and clear!
It's the ones that have create the image that "Parenting is Easy."
It's the Mom's that act like they're perfect! Yes, there are many that appear that way.
It's the ones that make you feel guilty when you don't breast feed, or stay home.
The ones that claim "Mom Jeans" are a joke, and the ones that try to hide the fact that they still smoke.
It's the ones who's daughter looks like the girl from "I-Carly."
The one that the teacher loves, or Coach starts first in very game-yes, there are more situations, but bad news my fellow Mom's:
The bullies exist.
They're just MomBullies.
In their 30's, 40's, 50's.
Put that all together, and you've captured the title of this blog.
That "Girl turned Mom," sighs, amazed at how wrong she was. She turns her head and happens to glance towards a group of "Silverettes" in waistband pants, some widows, some almost there. She smiles as they all laugh and get along, grateful for the wisdom of what their life has taught. She looks forward to the time, when she's that age, when she's a "Silver," and like the other "Silverettes" they'll all get along.
No more worries about tight tummies, for their boobies will be covering their stretch mark free tummies, as they dangle like diamonds, hovering just above the hardwood floor. The only difference is what stage they'll be at, in their 60's: some at retirement, some beyond, and some perhaps just arriving. The exclusions and nonsense from Moms in their 30's, 40's, and 50's, perhaps, maybe, will be all gone.
As the Girl Turned Mom watches the Grandmas of today, while she removes the Tupperware cover, that had been protecting her famous pretzel strawberry salad, she watches her own daughter, her own young "light," happy, on the playground, on one of the many playground swings. Her daughter, the girl on the swing, this recent Grad, whether kindergarten, 5th Grader or 8th Grade Grad, is the one watching all the Moms from the distance that she's in.
She's the one you see on that swing, and she, the young iris observer, watching how her Mom and the other Moms that are under the same gazebo, are all getting along. There is that girl on the swing, looking forward to the day when she and all the other girls in this world, and her world, will get along, and be just like them. The Moms working together, setting out all the food for the picnic, everyone bringing their special yummy dish, even the gluten free Mom's.
"How remarkable how they're all such amazing friends," this girl thinks as she is busy reaching new heights, the chains indicating this, by the noise that they make, the higher she swings.
"No longer the bully or feeling all alone, someday I'll be just like them," she thinks.
After all, our Mom's are the ones that teach us to get along, so of course the exclusions, and silent treatments will all be gone. Maybe someday it will be better. The Mom Bullies no longer bullying, and everyone getting along.
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