Guest blogger Jana Mathews: One of the biggest mommy myths is that you have to be friends with the parents of your child's friends.
I'm not ashamed to say that my daughter's best friend's mom drives me nuts. "Kate" is everything that I have tried my whole life to avoid: a former drill team captain and sorority girl, she swears by baby wipe warmers and talks incessantly about what's on sale at Gymboree.
Not that I'm some prize myself. Kate thinks I am boring and weird and could benefit from an extreme makeover. I know this because I asked her once. We were sitting in matching Hamburglar chairs at a McDonald's playland watching our children roll around in box of disgusting plastic balls.
"I'm not sure that I like you very much," I said without a hint of sarcasm.
"The feeling is mutual," Kate replied.
The irony of the situation was downright laughable, even if our conversation wasn't. There we were: two women who, in any other life, would never be friends, yet we spend more time with each other each week than with anyone else, including our husbands.
As much as it pains me and Kate to be around each other sometimes, we suck it up and move on for the sake of our daughters, who, unlike their mothers, are basically the same person. They're that similar. Kate and I agree that seeing our kids so happy has a strange way of putting our misery in perspective.
Not that spending so much time with Kate has been all bad: I just earned my first set of Gymbucks.
![]() | Jana Mathews is the mother of "four under five" and the author of The Meanest Mom blog. |
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