There is this other mom in The Goon Squad’s preschool class (you know what I mean. Her kid is in their class). She is beautiful. She is always well dressed and fully made up. Until a couple of days ago she was really really pregnant.
When I first met her I was thinking you’ve got to be kidding me. Who looks this good when they are hugely pregnant and has a two year old. Who has time to do their toenails and hair and makeup when they are 35 weeks pregnant? All of her maternity outfits were cute and they all matched. She was probably a cheerleader in high school. She seemed nice enough but I thought I would end up hating her.
It turns out she is great. She is really friendly and nice and funny and very laid back. I like her a lot, even though I would put down good money that she weighed less than I do now at 40 weeks pregnant.
So last Wednesday we are dropping the kids off at school and she says (very nonchalantly) “Yeah, I’m having contractions. They are about eight minutes apart.”
Another mom and I start freaking out. “OH MY GOD! HAVE YOU CALLED THE DOCTOR? GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW!” etc.
She says “No. I’ll call if they get closer together.”
The rest of us begin to make plans on what to do with her kid because clearly she won’t be around to pick him up in three hours.
Three Hours Later
We are all picking the kids up. In walks this woman who is in labor. “Hi.”
“Did you call the doctor?”
“No I went shopping. The contractions are still eight minutes apart.”
“How can you remain so calm?”
“I don’t know.”
Five Days Later
I walk into preschool. I am disheveled. I am carrying a screaming girl. It is raining and I don’t even know where the raincoats I bought for the kids are. I see the formerly pregnant Mom standing in the classroom looking gorgeous.
“So?” I say.
“It a girl.” she says “I had her on Friday.” And she gestures at this perfect little angel in some sort of Laura Ashley outfit with a matching hat. This baby is not crying. She is sleeping peacefully.
The other mothers and I are all stunned. I say “At this point I was still in the hospital. You look great.” All the other moms agree and we laugh about what wrecks we were and someone else says “My daughter is two and a half and I’m still not right.”
How can she be so together? I’m pretty sure that this woman is younger than me. Is it wrong that I want to be like her when I grow up?