Prescott Place

So for those keeping track at home regarding the saga from Monday, it looks like I may be safe from revealing my true “identity.” Topics that have been focused on the last two days include:

• the plane crash of Air France this week and various other past plane crashes
• Octomom
• temperature of swimming pools and when is it warm enough to start swimming
• the difference in how fraternal and identical twins are created
• Jon and Kate Plus 8
• how meteorologists are terrible at predicting the weather (Guess that was the “Profession of the Day” that stinks)
• how nudity is perceived in other countries and the two moms in the group who have been topless on beaches in other countries
• siblings of those in the class and whether they look alike or not
• pregnancy and difficulties in the first trimester
• breastfeeding, breastfeeding in public, and the fabulousness of the Breast Friend (Hmmm)
• how different school districts determine zoning for schools
• what grades are included in elementary, middle, high school, and senior high school in different ISD’s
• sizes of our graduating classes
• 18 Kids and Counting
• recommendations for good family dogs
• miscarriages
• how much more relaxed we have become with our second child
• the weather
• the greatness of Weir’s Furniture
• leather couches vs. cloth couches
• amount of dust in carpets and the Dyson vacuum
• AND the relief for those who are done with swimming on Thursday and the dread of those that are coming back for more fun next week!

And that just covers a total of one hour of conversation (and I am sure I have left topics out)! Thursday is the “Talent Show” portion of the swim class so I think I really should be safe. Whew!

Nolan is in a daily swim classes for the next MONTH. I drive thirty minutes each way for a thirty minute swim lesson with the lady known as the “Swim Nazi.” (Ironically it is the same lady I took lessons from when I was a little girl.) My thought in making this commitment is that I am ready for Nolan to be done with swim lessons. There is NO WAY I can handle two dependents in the pool so it is time for Nolan to knock this out of the ballpark! “Whatever it takes” is my motto!

There are five other ladies whose children are in the class. We are not allowed to watch the Swim Nazi teach our children so we are held captive, so to speak, in a little waiting room, sitting on benches… that face each other. So what do six women do while they wait? We chat of course! We are now in week two of the lessons and I have gotten to know these ladies fairly well. At this point it seems like we have talked about everything.

One of the ladies is actually the nanny for one of the boys in the class. She usually sits in her car during the class, but today she decided to join us in the little waiting room, on the benches, that face each other. It was like she was fresh meat and we had thirty minutes to kill. We all threw questions at her left and right learning about her plans for college, how she celebrated her recent 21st birthday (while she listened to us each give her advice on various wines to try), the family she works for now, a beach vacation with her family that she just went on, so on. Isn’t it amazing how much ground six women can cover in thirty minutes?

Somehow the conversation steered towards her talking about the last family she worked for. She described this mother in a manner that made us all moan and groan and think she had to be voted Worst Mother of the Year. We all agreed she made the right decision to leave that home. We talked about how sorry we felt for her two children to have a mother who seemed so uninvolved and detached from her kids. And then this nanny said, “Oh and I forgot to mention, this mother is a THERAPIST!” The mothers  simultaneously erupted into conversation. “That is just so typical and not surprising” one said as she rolled her eyes. Another said, “Therapists are the worst. They need therapy more than anyone.” “I SOOO agree” added another mom. And I….. well, I said nothing. I instantly froze and thought to myself, “What do I do? What do I say? Oh please I hope they do not ask me my thoughts or even WORSE do I work and if so, what do I do?” Griffin was a great distraction in that moment. Thank goodness women talk fast, because as quickly as that conversation began, we moved on to something else.

What is bad is there are three more days in this class and there is a really strong likelihood that I could end up with these ladies for Session #2 that starts next week and goes for two more weeks. Every. Single. Day. For thirty minutes. In a little waiting room. On benches… that face each other.

So Mom when you take Nolan to swimming on Thursday and the ladies ask where I work, do me a favor and just say I work for an insurance agent. That is safe, right?