Since I'm too busy to blog...

I asked one of my blog besties to do it for me.  (That's how I roll IRL too.)  Holly is such a nut & she is so much like me, I swear we share a brain.  (Of course, it's an extra large brain.)

Plus, she called me out on not blogging (so did my momma), so this is her punishment.  I promise I have some posts to write like how the gorilla showed me his business at the zoo & how I was in a pie-eating contest this weekend.  But I'll get to that eventually.

Until till...meet Holly.

I'm a judgy kinda gal. I admit, I judge a book by it's cover. Once I judge the book that doesn't mean I won't pick it up and go through it, and every so often I'll admit my initial judgement was wrong...



Like with a skinny chick pushing a stroller full of two month old. How the hell is she so skinny already? I automatically don't like her...all smug wearing a size six jeans with her boobs still perky...ugh. But after she sits next to me at the play area and we start chatting and I learn she really is super nice and it's not her fault she has awesome genetics and I got hit with the fat stick I'll change my judgement and even feel slightly ashamed of myself.

But there is one mom I have yet to change my mind about that I've met at the playground...That Mom. You all know her, she's the one playing with her kids. She's the one that looks...good. Like she tried...


You're only to hang with me if you look like a mom. I'm not saying I want everyone to be wearing the mom jeans and breaking out the old scrunchies, but coordinating Ralph Lauren yoga pant ensembles? Really? And how the hell are your sneakers so clean? Especially since you insist on playing at the park? I'm sitting at the picnic table with one of my friends, actively ignoring my children, and my shoes are a wreck! How does that happen? My capris are crumpled and my shirt has syrup stains from breakfast...that's the way a mom is supposed to look!


Snacks. Simple. Easy. Goldfish. Pretzels. A banana or apple. Whatever I remember to throw in my bag, really. But when That Mom pulls out her organic almond butter on 9 grain bread sandwiches with freshly cut strawberries I throw up a little bit in my mouth. That is not the snack of the playground, and please, put the carrots you grew in your own garden with the soil you composted yourself away...I have enough feelings of inadequacies...


And please, stop pushing your kid on the swing. Mine are going to start thinking that's what I'm supposed to do...and swing pushing? Really cuts into my sitting on the bench drinking coffee with my friends time. So please, come sit with us...savor the sit. I promise you'll like it!! Not playing with your kids at the park opens up a whole new world...


Tempted? Come sit by me next time you take the kids to the park...I'll be the mom sitting there not paying attention...you can't miss me...


Holly Waligora
http://www.notaperfectmomsblog.com/