The Real Housewives of Fairfield County
(All names have been changed to protect individuals involved!)
Every group has one. That person who just rubs you or someone the wrong way causing tension so tight that something will surely shatter. In college we had one. We had a Liar amongst us. A "friend" whom perhaps was so insecure that lies were being told left and right. And the problem with Liars is that they start to believe their own stories and get caught up in them and seem to not be able to sort fact from fiction. For the most part we tolerated her and felt sorry for her. It's not that any of her lies were mean or spiteful. That would have been something else entirely.
Fast forward 10 years later to the birth of my first child and my First Mommy Playgroup. My children were all born in Greenwich Hospital in Greenwich, Connecticut. Ooh La La, you say. Or how Chi-chi! While yes, Greenwich perhaps boasts the the wealthiest zip code in the US, at least east of Los Angeles. But Greenwich, while filled with Ferraris and Lamborghinis and Bentleys and Mercedes along it's auto strip (as opposed to Fords and Chevys and Kias) has its fair share of middle class and blue collar workers making it a very well rounded community. But that part most people don't know. So there I was with a new baby and feeling a little lonely as tends to happen after the birth of your first child. So I joined a parenting group through the hospital and we talked about all that stuff you talk about when you have little babies. Some of us hit it off instantly and started getting together regularly for play dates. But there was one Cammy, who drove us all equally insane. She too hailed from Manhattan and she was, well the Alex of our group. The elitist social climber who lived in a house on the "wrong side of the Post Road" who talked incessantly about this name, that name, or the other name. Who dressed her snotty nosed, whiny kid in Best & Co, clothing daily and proudly displayed and talked about her black Prada backpack. She drove us all nuts, bonkers, with her social-climbing talk and her I'm Better Than You attitude. Eventually people stopped calling her. Later on she moved to another state. (Thank God!)
Many, many years passed before I had to deal with another Alex. Then a few years ago when Alexander was born I had to make new Baby Friends from scratch. While my older two were steeped in friendships and activities and in school I found myself once again home. And bored. So I joined my gym and hit it off with a couple of the moms there. And we eventually brought our friendships out of the gym and into our homes, yards, playgrounds, beaches and even restaurants. Eventually we connected with a few friends of these new friends. And that's when everything changed. Another social climbing Drama Mama entered my life via a friend. At first I thought she was funny and outgoing. Then I learned fast that Amy was mean. Spiteful and vindictive. But only to some. She would never think to put down someone she believed to be inferior to her. Why she felt superior to some was beyond me. Here was another Alex living in a not so nice part of town who had the audacity to think less of people based on where they came from and were raised. Based on the fact that their children were not dressed like hers. She fought with one of my friends constantly. For some reason she was competitive with me dropping this name and that name and this event and that event. And if you know me, you know I can not stand that and am probably the least competitive person out there. Since I was sort of an outsider I saw this all with a clear vision.
I spent less time with this group because I had the other two, and well, partly because I just couldn't put up with her crap. She's the type of person who superficially judges a book by it's cover. She chose to be friendly with the mothers who had blond-haired, blue-eyed little girls and dressed them in Lily. (I had a boy, luckily, so my encounters with her grew fewer and fewer!) And while they grew fewer and fewer she still kept creeping under my skin. She was all talk about This preschool and how it was "The" Preschool. Thank goodness my children are at a private school not near her "The" Preschool! And for a while her talk was all about this "The" Preschool which makes me laugh because when she ends up in the public school system she'll no longer be with "The" people she loves and aspires to be with. As mean as this sounds, I am laughing internally, a long and evil laugh. The difference between Alex and Amy is that Alex is a decent person and Alex's hubby is the loser, whereas Amy's husband is supersweet and lovely... oh do I feel sorry for him! Anyhow, I'm pretty sure our paths won't cross in the future.
Even in high school I really never was part of a clique. I got along with everyone and saw every one's strengths and weaknesses. I'm still much the same way. People fascinate me and I have friends in many different circles with different interests. I get along with everyone and genuinely like almost everyone. I'm personable and approachable.
Last year I was nominated to chair the school's Ways and Means Committee, which if you've been a regular reader know that I oversaw the wine tasting, wrapping paper drive and the school's annual auction. It's a big job with lots of responsibility and it is all volunteer.
A few people stepped up to help me out in my time of need and for their time and dedication and hard work I am so very grateful. One such person who offered to help ended up being nothing but critical, judgemental and very negative. I took some of her ideas and suggestions to heart and let the rest of her bitter comments run off my back. I've gotten pretty good, over the years, at not taking everything too seriously and not taking everything too personally. I've always considered myself a very diplomatic person and easy to work with. But when pushed too far I'm either to fall off over the edge or give the other person a piece of my mind. Which is exactly what happened the other day.
On Monday morning I was leaving school and headed toward the dry cleaners and the bakery as I had promised Alexander I would. I got a call from this person who has been driving me bonkers so I answered it. In Connecticut it is illegal to talk on a cell phone while driving unless you have a hands-free device. I do not have a headset but my car is equipped with Bluetooth. We are now on speaker and Alexander can hear our full conversation.
It seems there was a family who had donated some items and the mother was upset because something went for less than value. She donated a L'Occitaine gift basket valued at $300 and the top bid went for $200. This woman was livid. Really there was a miscommunication because I hadn't realized there was a minimum bid. So my not so tactful, negative and critical friend tells me, over the speaker that "we fucked up." I was a little annoyed that she would choose those words when she knew that we were on speaker, but more so because we hadn't at all. There was a simple miscommunication that I would later smooth over. And then she went in on me again criticizing this that and the other in a very negative manner. And that's when I could take no more. And that was the straw that broke this camel's back.
Incensed and appalled that she dare steamroll me, that she dare call my event a failure and in such a negative manner over and over and over again. I told her that we did not "fuck up" and that she could go "fuck off!' I couldn't believe I had said it, but I had and you know what? It felt good. Damn good! I was met by silence on the other line that I am sure was met with shock and disbelief. In the end she sought me out and apologized to me. She knew... word has since travelled around the school. All sorts of people have come up to me and congratulated me and told me that I had been extremely patient all year and that she deserved it! And I must admit that it felt good!
I truly believe there is a difference between being critical of someone or their work or their ideas and being constructive. There is a tactful way of telling people that you may not see eye to eye with their ideas. In the end Diplomacy pays. I shouldn't have had to explain that it was I, and not she, that was chairing the event nor that I was a volunteer offering up most of my free time at the expense of my family without earning so much as a dollar. The event was indeed a success in the eyes of the community and we raised more funds than expected!
And you deserve a medal if you read this far!
Every group has one. That person who just rubs you or someone the wrong way causing tension so tight that something will surely shatter. In college we had one. We had a Liar amongst us. A "friend" whom perhaps was so insecure that lies were being told left and right. And the problem with Liars is that they start to believe their own stories and get caught up in them and seem to not be able to sort fact from fiction. For the most part we tolerated her and felt sorry for her. It's not that any of her lies were mean or spiteful. That would have been something else entirely.
Fast forward 10 years later to the birth of my first child and my First Mommy Playgroup. My children were all born in Greenwich Hospital in Greenwich, Connecticut. Ooh La La, you say. Or how Chi-chi! While yes, Greenwich perhaps boasts the the wealthiest zip code in the US, at least east of Los Angeles. But Greenwich, while filled with Ferraris and Lamborghinis and Bentleys and Mercedes along it's auto strip (as opposed to Fords and Chevys and Kias) has its fair share of middle class and blue collar workers making it a very well rounded community. But that part most people don't know. So there I was with a new baby and feeling a little lonely as tends to happen after the birth of your first child. So I joined a parenting group through the hospital and we talked about all that stuff you talk about when you have little babies. Some of us hit it off instantly and started getting together regularly for play dates. But there was one Cammy, who drove us all equally insane. She too hailed from Manhattan and she was, well the Alex of our group. The elitist social climber who lived in a house on the "wrong side of the Post Road" who talked incessantly about this name, that name, or the other name. Who dressed her snotty nosed, whiny kid in Best & Co, clothing daily and proudly displayed and talked about her black Prada backpack. She drove us all nuts, bonkers, with her social-climbing talk and her I'm Better Than You attitude. Eventually people stopped calling her. Later on she moved to another state. (Thank God!)
Many, many years passed before I had to deal with another Alex. Then a few years ago when Alexander was born I had to make new Baby Friends from scratch. While my older two were steeped in friendships and activities and in school I found myself once again home. And bored. So I joined my gym and hit it off with a couple of the moms there. And we eventually brought our friendships out of the gym and into our homes, yards, playgrounds, beaches and even restaurants. Eventually we connected with a few friends of these new friends. And that's when everything changed. Another social climbing Drama Mama entered my life via a friend. At first I thought she was funny and outgoing. Then I learned fast that Amy was mean. Spiteful and vindictive. But only to some. She would never think to put down someone she believed to be inferior to her. Why she felt superior to some was beyond me. Here was another Alex living in a not so nice part of town who had the audacity to think less of people based on where they came from and were raised. Based on the fact that their children were not dressed like hers. She fought with one of my friends constantly. For some reason she was competitive with me dropping this name and that name and this event and that event. And if you know me, you know I can not stand that and am probably the least competitive person out there. Since I was sort of an outsider I saw this all with a clear vision.
I spent less time with this group because I had the other two, and well, partly because I just couldn't put up with her crap. She's the type of person who superficially judges a book by it's cover. She chose to be friendly with the mothers who had blond-haired, blue-eyed little girls and dressed them in Lily. (I had a boy, luckily, so my encounters with her grew fewer and fewer!) And while they grew fewer and fewer she still kept creeping under my skin. She was all talk about This preschool and how it was "The" Preschool. Thank goodness my children are at a private school not near her "The" Preschool! And for a while her talk was all about this "The" Preschool which makes me laugh because when she ends up in the public school system she'll no longer be with "The" people she loves and aspires to be with. As mean as this sounds, I am laughing internally, a long and evil laugh. The difference between Alex and Amy is that Alex is a decent person and Alex's hubby is the loser, whereas Amy's husband is supersweet and lovely... oh do I feel sorry for him! Anyhow, I'm pretty sure our paths won't cross in the future.
Even in high school I really never was part of a clique. I got along with everyone and saw every one's strengths and weaknesses. I'm still much the same way. People fascinate me and I have friends in many different circles with different interests. I get along with everyone and genuinely like almost everyone. I'm personable and approachable.
Last year I was nominated to chair the school's Ways and Means Committee, which if you've been a regular reader know that I oversaw the wine tasting, wrapping paper drive and the school's annual auction. It's a big job with lots of responsibility and it is all volunteer.
A few people stepped up to help me out in my time of need and for their time and dedication and hard work I am so very grateful. One such person who offered to help ended up being nothing but critical, judgemental and very negative. I took some of her ideas and suggestions to heart and let the rest of her bitter comments run off my back. I've gotten pretty good, over the years, at not taking everything too seriously and not taking everything too personally. I've always considered myself a very diplomatic person and easy to work with. But when pushed too far I'm either to fall off over the edge or give the other person a piece of my mind. Which is exactly what happened the other day.
On Monday morning I was leaving school and headed toward the dry cleaners and the bakery as I had promised Alexander I would. I got a call from this person who has been driving me bonkers so I answered it. In Connecticut it is illegal to talk on a cell phone while driving unless you have a hands-free device. I do not have a headset but my car is equipped with Bluetooth. We are now on speaker and Alexander can hear our full conversation.
It seems there was a family who had donated some items and the mother was upset because something went for less than value. She donated a L'Occitaine gift basket valued at $300 and the top bid went for $200. This woman was livid. Really there was a miscommunication because I hadn't realized there was a minimum bid. So my not so tactful, negative and critical friend tells me, over the speaker that "we fucked up." I was a little annoyed that she would choose those words when she knew that we were on speaker, but more so because we hadn't at all. There was a simple miscommunication that I would later smooth over. And then she went in on me again criticizing this that and the other in a very negative manner. And that's when I could take no more. And that was the straw that broke this camel's back.
Incensed and appalled that she dare steamroll me, that she dare call my event a failure and in such a negative manner over and over and over again. I told her that we did not "fuck up" and that she could go "fuck off!' I couldn't believe I had said it, but I had and you know what? It felt good. Damn good! I was met by silence on the other line that I am sure was met with shock and disbelief. In the end she sought me out and apologized to me. She knew... word has since travelled around the school. All sorts of people have come up to me and congratulated me and told me that I had been extremely patient all year and that she deserved it! And I must admit that it felt good!
I truly believe there is a difference between being critical of someone or their work or their ideas and being constructive. There is a tactful way of telling people that you may not see eye to eye with their ideas. In the end Diplomacy pays. I shouldn't have had to explain that it was I, and not she, that was chairing the event nor that I was a volunteer offering up most of my free time at the expense of my family without earning so much as a dollar. The event was indeed a success in the eyes of the community and we raised more funds than expected!
And you deserve a medal if you read this far!