Turf Wars and Mom Fails

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Can we please just take a moment to talk about how I’m a failure as a mother before we discuss my weight?

M’kay? Thanks…

Lets start with the first transgression, Girl Scout cookies.

I hate them. I hate them with all of my being. When Bridget was little I thought it was the cutest thing, bundling her up and taking her door to door.

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I mean… look at that cute little face. You would do it too.

It took a few years for the fun to fade and the realization that it isn’t really my Girl Scout selling the cookies but me.

Wait a minute…I’ve already got a job, thanks.

I know, I’m such and asshole.

Every year I can’t help but envision rivaling minivans filled with moms wearing their game faces speeding off to pick up the cookies so they can beat the other troups in sales. I see girl scouts having turf wars and all of a sudden something that started out innocent and adorable had turned into something ugly and distasteful. (Even if it is tasty.)

I soon realized that standing outside of grocery stores, knocking on doors, hustling on Facebook and hitting up my co-workers wasn’t really my thing.

Sorry…

Okay, so maybe I’m not really sorry.

Once I started to come to this realization I would feel guilty for not pulling my share of the cookie sales so I would buy a butt load of cookies for the cause, and then I would eat them.

But I’m not even doing that this year, and it makes me an even bigger asshole. (Even though my ass may end up smaller due this decision.)

Bridget is sorely disappointed in me and I understand that. My suburban street cred has seriously taken a hit due to my lack of girl scout cookie selling participation. I’m sure if I were to walk into a PTA meeting I would be shunned, but I kind of don’t care. And I’m still debating on whether I should feel bad about that or not.

I’m still on the fence on whether I’m just being lazy or drawing a healthy boundary.

The jury is still out…

The next transgression is swim team.

Bridget is not the most athletic of children. She has inherited the clumsy gene. It’s so bad that I actually thought she had an inner ear problem or something.

I always wonder where she got this from and then I’ll think of my sister. She’s tall, lean and beautiful. She’s also known for her fantastic fashion sense. In high school she would wear stilettos with her size tiny jeans. She would park her car at school (even though we lived three blocks away) and strut her stuff across the parking lot only to trip and find herself bleeding on the asphalt.

So… apparently it’s a family trait.

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(Actual picture taken from my sister’s Facebook page… love you Aly!)

 Bridget has tried many sports, but they were never quite the right fit until she stumbled upon swimming. She is literally a fish out of water. As soon as she slips into the pool she is graceful and powerful. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

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Swimming for Bridget has been a labor of love. She has tried to quit several times, but we wouldn’t let her. She’s shied away from the competition and has only participated in a few swim meets over the past few years. Recently, she has really started to get into it and was signed up for her first swim meet in a long time this weekend.

I completely failed today because I didn’t take her to it. The meet was supposed to take place during a massive snow storm that they have been predicting all week long. Swim meets take about half a day to complete and I was concerned that the drive home would be treacherous. (In other words I’m a wimp.)

I’m from Texas. Snow and Texans don’t mix. My husband however, works in the mountains. He spends 9 months of the year navigating through snow. We would have been just fine.

Bridget grasped on to my lack of enthusiasm for going and decided not to participate in the swim meet. I felt horrible. I completely lead her astray. I derailed everything she is supposed to have learned from sports- team work and dedication.

We woke up this morning and there was barely a dusting of snow.

I regretted my decision instantly. Then Bridget’s girl scout troup leader, whose daughter is a good friend of Bridget’s and also on the same swim team, texted me asking if we were coming because the coach was looking for her.

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I felt even worse. The prediction of an abundance of snow had prompted our local school district to close down all of their facilities for the weekend. I thought there was a possibility that the swim meet would be canceled as well. It wasn’t.

PARENT FAIL #2- Someone please take my mom card away from me.

I felt so bad I woke Bridget up to make her take a walk with me in the snow to talk about how I’ve taught her horrible lessons on not following through with commitments. But she didn’t want to go for a walk. She had cramps. Turns out my decision to not take her to the swim meet saved her from the embarrassment of having to endure the curse of womanhood in a bathing suit surrounded by spectators.

Mom card returned.

So Penelope and I went on a walk together instead.

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I’m currently working on mommy transgression number three, my lack of enthusiasm for potty training…

Phew! Now that we have established that I will not be invited to play bunco with the other moms let’s move on to why we are all here. We all want to see if I can actually get my shit together and lose some weight.

Because according to this “suggested post” from Facebook, I’m fat.

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Can you believe the insinuation!? I’ve slapped a hoe for less. Just kidding, I don’t know any hoes. In fact, I’m not even sure I know how to spell hoe.

Anyway, I am proud to say that when I stepped on the scale today I weighed in at 199.2. This is exactly three pounds down from last week! We’re going to ignore the fact that I weighed this a few weeks ago but gained it back. In fact, let’s forget I even mentioned it.

Damn it Facebook! You know me so well!

One thought on “Turf Wars and Mom Fails

  1. Congrats on the weight loss! Hooray!

    And yeah – the potty training thing. Sigh. I told G this weekend that NEXT weekend, we are going to wear big boy undies and only use the potty and he said, “No. That ok. I just poop in my diaper and then you change it.”

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