Laurie Gelman - Yoga Pant Nation

Well? What do you think?

Shirleen Cobb is hovering behind me like Trump at a debate. Her presence makes my kitchen feel smaller for some reason.

Whats the pun? I ask.

What?

Whats the pun? You wrote pun intended. But I dont get what the pun is.

Shirleen folds her arms across her ample torso and arches one bushy eyebrow at me. I can tell she thinks Im kidding.

Im serious! I start laughing.

Branching out! From the environmentally challenged club. Branch. Tree. Environment. She is exasperated. Jennifer, I swear, I thought you were clever.

Aaaannd this is what I get for agreeing to help Shirleen write her first-ever Class Mom email.

Okay, well, sure. Now I see it. I dont.

Hell must have frozen over, because Shirleen, after years of judging from the cheap seats, is now dipping her toe into the class mom swamp. This year is the first time her son Graydon and my son, Max, are not in the same class, and apparently no one else wanted the job in Graydons classshocking, I know, what with all the fame and fortune that come with it. So, I guess the PTA president, Sylvie Pike, started pulling names out of a hat until she found someone who caved to her wily intimidation. I should knowshe snagged me again with a combination of flattery and threats. That woman could talk a virgin into a threesome. Im hoping Shirleen leaves soon so I can get my own email out to my class before the end of the day.

Why did you address it to caregivers? I ask her.

The PTA sent out a note saying we shouldnt use the word parents anymore.

This is news to me. I really shouldnt delete every PTA email sight unseen. Its just habit at this point.

Why not? I ask her.

I guess not everyone is a parent. She shrugs. They dont want to offend anyone.

In my mind I wonder just how far this PC thing is going to go before we all just give up talking. But then Im cheered up thinking about all the things I can call my class besides parents.

The inspirational thought is a nice touch, I say to Shirleen.

She beams. Well, I thought so too. I just hope I can keep it up. I really started with my best one.

Are they all going to be Disney themed? I ask this because Hakuna Matata seems like low-hanging fruit to me.

Im really going to try. She says this as though its the most important task shes taken on since motherhood.

I get up from the kitchen counter office and walk to the fridge to grab a LaCroix lime seltzer watermy new crack.

Want one? I ask my guest.

No thanks. I dont drink anything I cant pronounce. But I was hoping to see that baby before I go.

Ah yes, that babyalso known as the light of my life and the bane of my existence, all rolled into one perfect almost-two-year-old package.

I dont think shes going to be up for another half hour. Italian for Toddlers really took it out of her this morning.

Shirleen nods solemnly. I get it. Learning a new language is hard. She has clearly missed the sarcasm in my voice. Well, Ill just have to see her some other time. She grabs her bright-red purse and slings it over her shoulder. Thanks for the help. See you at the PTA breakfast.

Oh no you wont, I think as I watch her lumber out my back door and onto the streets of Overland Park, Kansas. As luck would have it, I have my annual Pap smear that morning, so I wont be able to make it yet again, much to the annoyance of PTA president Sylvie Pike. I think it speaks volumes that Id rather have my vagina scraped than break bread with my fellow class parents.

Just as I sit back down at my computer, fully intending to start my own class email, I hear Maude on the monitor. Yes, you read that right: Maude. The name my eldest daughter, Vivs, decided to saddle her baby with despite pleas from just about everyone not to (except my mother, whose middle name isyou guessed it!Maude).

Sweetie, please think about what youre setting her up for, I said to her more than once in the last month of her pregnancy. Maude smells like a cod, Maude is oddplus, shes going to have a lifetime of people singing And then theres Maude to her.

Mom, only people your age remember that show, and youll all be dead soon. I love the name, and I want to do it for Nana. End of discussion.

I really thought shed have an eleventh-hour turnaround, but I was proven wrong when she took her newborn into her arms for the first time, smiled exhaustedly, and said, Hi, Maude.

So Maude she is, and Maude she will remain until she asks a judge to legally change it, which I really think is just a matter of time. As I run up to get her, I cant help but sing the TV theme song to the rhythm of my feet hitting the steps. Uncompromising, enterprising, anything but tranquilizing. Right on, Maude!

I open the door to Vivss old bedroom, and Maude is standing in her Pack n Play, her dark curls damp with sweat and a smile on her face that Im sure will be the death of me.

Whos that? Whos that girl? I needlessly ask. I have become a complete parody of a doting grandmother. I cant help myselfsomething about this kid turns me to mush. I pick her up and take her to the changing table for a much-needed diaper swap.

Did you have a good sleepy-bye, bunny? I blow raspberries on her stomach, and she giggles. My little Maudey mush!

Mom, please stop talking baby talk to her is how Vivs announces her presence in the doorway. She is in her work attire of a blue shirt and black pants, and her long, dark hair is in a loose braid.

She is a baby, I mumble as I do up the snaps on Maudes green onesie.

Vivs comes to the changing table and scoops her daughter into her arms. Ciao, amore mio. Hai fame?

I roll my eyes. I see your Babbel lessons are coming along.

Vivs sticks out her tongue, then marches downstairs to the kitchen. Do you have any mango-carrot-cauliflower puffs? she asks over her shoulder, her butt sticking out of the snack cupboard.