June 10, 2009

I fail at life...

So here's a little something about me. I have trouble making friends. My husband likes to blame this on homeschooling but I honestly believe it is just the way I am. I'm not shy, I do great in public and I love meeting people. I have a ton of acquaintances but friends don't seem to stick. I don't know, maybe I smell bad.

Here's a little more. I'm a homebody so I have barely left the house in the nine months Bug has been here. When I do get out it is to go to school. You know, for engineering. Engineering. Code word for "no vaginas."

And to top it off with a big ol' scoop of pathetic, Bug wasn't exactly planned. At all. I had a shotgun wedding minus the shotgun. (Justice of the Peace said a lovely prayer.) I'm not technically legal to drink adult beverages....you get the picture. I love Bug and I always have but it was taken me none months to feel like I am "supposed" to be a mother. Like I belong here and I deserve to be proud of it.

So I was REALLY EXCITED that I found a playgroup in my town. Yes, I know they are supposed to be for children but holy cow, I was going to talk to moms! Real live ones with kids and everything. It took a little gumption (gumption, not courage. I'm not that pathetic...) to contact them and even more to attend the first event. It was today, a meetup at the splash park.

Yay! Perfect! Our AC is dead so of course I would love to go slash around with the Bugglet and meet my new friends. I was so excited that my husband made fun of me for sounding like a little kid. Getting ready to go felt like I was headed to a party. I even shaved my legs...

I get there, pay, walk in, and wait to the see the gathering of happy mothers. Maybe they would wear matching shirts, perhaps they would have a sign proclaiming their welcome. I was even open to an aura of light and the angel chorus. I didn't know how but I knew I would see them.

I didn't...

I thought maybe they met up at the swings and and would walk over together.

They didn't...

I thought maybe it was canceled.

It wasn't...

I load Bug back into the car and drive home. I checked the website to see if something changed or if I got the time wrong. Nope, time was 3 o'clock. Location was, wait...MLK park? I thought it was at Creekmore.

I had gone to the wrong park.

I got Bug all showered because he was sleepy and then laid down with him. I had gone to the wrong park. I felt so stupid. My new friends didn't go to the wrong park. About this time I started crying. I haven't cried about anything since the first month of Baby Blues. But I cried about this. I had spent 45 minutes splashing with my son, eagerly searching for faces that looked "playgroupish" and getting upset. Meanwhile, 10 minutes north, moms and kids were having a great time and wondering (I can only hope) why I wasn't there. I felt like an idiot. Bug laughed at me and tried to cram the wet towel in my wailing mouth. I blubbered an apology to him about how he was never going to have any friends because I would always take him to the wrong place or get lost or forget and how I was a generally horrible mother and he could send me the bill for therapy. He spit up on the bed...

I still feel horrible. And I can't even make good cookies. Yes, I made depression cookies. What about it...