I have enrolled Pudding in the local kindergarten where he is due to start pre-entry in term four of this year, so October or something. Pre-entry involves just one half day per week of kindy time but the following term (in January) he will start going to full-time (four half days) kindy. As I mentioned before, we had been going to the playgroup at the nice Montessoriish school but to be honest I find that kind of boring. It is very small and there are not a lot of other kids for him to play with or parents for me to talk to.
Today we attended a playgroup at the kindy hoping that time there now will make the transition to kindy later in the year easier. I left Grub with Beefcake so that Pudding and I could have time together alone, something we rarely get.
First of all. The kindy playgroup was fantastic. Heaps of fun activities, lots of space to play, lots of kids of different ages from babies right up to Pudding’s age, lots of parents. It was nice. We played and painted and stenciled and made pies from playdough. He LOVED it, even more than the other playgroup, so I am sure we will be going every week from now on. It will be fine to take Grub as there were other children her age and even some we knew from other places. I think it will be great for all of us.
Particularly as it seems I am in dire need of some assistance with my social skills. I think playgroup, where I may be able to learn to hold normal conversations (ones where my foot resists the urge to lodge itself in my mouth) and make friends with other mothers who I like and who are normal, would be good.
From a me socialising perspective, playgroup did not go that well, can you tell?
First off, there was a Dad there who I knew (well I knew his kids, they are usually with their mum but I had seen him once or twice) from Pudding’s swimming class and I said hello and explained how I knew the children. That was fine. I felt all grown-up having grown-up conversations with grown-ups. I think it gave me unwarranted confidence.
We sat down at the playdough table and were soon joined by a Mum and her daughter. We made small talk. It turns out they have only been in Australia four or five weeks. They have moved from the UK. She wanted to know all about how kindy works and I was happy to share.
This my friends, was my time to shine. I was rockin’ the small talk. I was asking about her family, normal things, how many kids? How old? Why did they move to Australia, was it for her work or her husband’s work? She explained that they had always wanted to move to Australia and just happened to find a job that was perfect for her “partner”. It was during this part of the conversation as she made gratuitous use of the word “partner” that I was thinking, oh, okay, they’re not married, that was a bit wrong of me to say “husband” as though everyone is married and…
Yeah, I am slow on the uptake.
It was about that time that she told me that actually, my partner, she’s a woman.
Gee, I’m great. I mean, how much of the stereotypical middle-class housewife would you like me to be. I should have said partner. I am an ass and ask her about her “husband”. What a twat.
Through the course of the conversation it also comes out that she is a doctor.
I mutter something about once having had a career in something or other and she says “Oh your a ..” and I say “Uh, no, used to be but not since I was quite pregnant with Pudding.”
I am the boring, middle class, boring, assume everyonehasahusband moron.
I should not be allowed out in public.
Now, I know they have just signed a lease on a house in the area. The chances are that the kids will be going to playgroup and then to kindy together. I will probably have to see this Mum quite a bit and she will have to see me. It’s dumb, I rarely meet Mums who I like. I only have one or two friendships formed because of the children. I liked this Mum and then I act like a bumbling idiot. I am a social moron. She probably went home and told her partner about the moron housewife she met at playgroup. I suck. Beefcake says he’s pretty sure it’s a common assumption seeing as she is at a playgroup with her child. It’s not just the assumption that I made though. The conversation just left me feeling like a stupid, boring loser. It wasn’t her fault, she was very nice about it but now I think she’ll probably avoid me like the plague.
Alternatively, it is possible that I have blown the whole incident out of proportion in my anxiety-ridden mind and am just a touch hormonal and mental.
What say you?