Jesus Juice

It's no secret that I'm socially stunted. I like company, but the effort of interacting especially with other parents I don't particularly know scares the crap out of me. The occasions most always leave me feeling exposed and vulnerable and in need of cover. Whatever. We all have our issues.

Last night Cassidy's class had a BBQ at one of the children's homes. I dreaded this most of the day and made up various scenarios in which I could avoid the dinner and hide in my room where I could talk to my hands and pretend they were actual people. Unfortunately most of my visions involved the emergency room or me quietly sneaking away to the desert, neither option had good outcomes because the ER would involve blood and bills and the desert required packing and sleeping in the sand. So the end of the day came, I collected Devon from a play date and off we went, Devon covered in playground dirt and me completely unmedicated in any form.

Here I'm going to mention that Catholic school was not always Cass' academic path. When she was younger both Cass and Loren attended a Waldorf school. It was lovely, time intensive and social occasions were rather strict, by this I mean the menus were exclusively, militantly organic and there was no alcohol at them.

When I walked into the house last night I was expecting something along the same lines and dreading it because I don't know any of the parents of Cassidy's peers. In fact I've made no effort whatsoever to know them and I was unmedicated, i.e, no Ativan because for some reason I'm trying to experience life without it and get a grip on my anxieties. As I walked up the sidewalk I saw that most of the other eight sets of married parents were carrying totes filled with wine bottles and six packs of micro brews. Huh. When I arrived in the kitchen the first thing the hostess did was stick a wine glass in my hand and offer me white or red, or something harder if I so desired. She saw me hesitate and said, "You're new here, not to worry. Enjoy!" Later as we sat around the table for chat and chew I told The Other Moms my earlier exposure to Waldorf dinners, their mouths fell open and they shook their heads in horror. One of them said, "Honey, we're Catholic. Wine is how we roll." I wanted to reply, "Praise Jesus! I am home!" Thinking better of it I raised my glass for a toast. I'm not sure I'll ever be a team player in terms of TOM's, but I might be able to hang with this crowd if it involves wine.