One of the moms invited the entire class to a welcome breakfast at her house. I instantly thought what a beautiful gesture-everyone was included. As it turned out, only about one third of the moms could make it which was nice because it was a little more intimate. It was interesting for me to observe that it was actually a pretty good cross section of women. I’m always so convinced that everyone is young, blonde and beautiful. If I’m honest, a few of the moms were around my age, and they were not all blonde.

When I first arrive I see some familiar faces. I see Prisha, a warm mom I recognize from the playground last year. I felt drawn to her ever since I met her one afternoon by the swings. She is someone I have had real conversations with about deep issues such as life and death. She is Indian and has taught me about the Hindu beliefs around karma and reincarnation. She explained to me that in India there is no real concept of depression as it would be considered a luxury that people really don’t have the time or means to contemplate. One day Prisha said to me, “You really see people. You don’t look through them.” This was one of the most genuine compliments I have ever received. It traveled straight to my heart and remains there today. After all that is who I want to be. I love to learn about peoples lives. To me, it is such a privilege when someone is willing to share themselves (their real selves). Then I notice a few other moms I know and like that I have been room moms with, or in girl scouts, but there are also several new faces. It really is an interesting diverse group. There is a sort of new age gal that references nomenclature I’m familiar with like “intention” and “put it out to the universe.” There’s an artist who is married to a surgeon. She has recently been commissioned to paint a piece for a well known client. Of course I find this glamorous and impressive. There are also a few moms that have been teachers, but right now must of us are focusing on raising our children. Sometimes just being a mom in this group is intimidating. It’s definately a group of over achieving type A’s. Prior to arriving, I had received an email outlining the minutes from the room mom meeting along with a spreadsheet allocating our costs for an upcoming party. The mom who opened her home is as charming as she is beautiful. She sort of looks like a lot of people in this neighborhood. She’s young, beautiful, and blonde. She has four toe heads, a pretty husband and a very pretty house. She has an oversized distressed book case filled with books she has read-some with her bible study and some with her book club. She explains how she met her husband and his sister on her first day at university, and they became best of friends. I muse at what appears to be the perfect life. I can’t help but wonder if things are as pretty underneath. I mean everyone has challenges, right? Why do I always find myself so enchanted by the lives that are adorned with so much prettiness. I often feel like I’m sort of balancing between these two worlds. On the one hand, I have one foot firmly planted on the ground-keenly aware of what’s important, real and enduring, and then on the other hand I feel like my other foot is sort of floating in this sea of perfection. I long to join this group in some ways, but I also don’t really feel like I belong. I can be very impressionable-even at my age. Why do things always seem so pretty and shiny from my vantage point.