There’s a little park in our neighborhood that we’ve been taking the girls to every night before dinner for the past couple of weeks. It’s a short walk, it’s quiet, shady and secluded. And with the exception of tonight, when the sidewalk drawings were particularly offensive (“Bush is a War Monger” with swastikas farther up the path… you don’t have to be a genius to see the irony in that, right?), it’s just a lovely little spot to spend an hour at the end of a long day.

Anyway, shortly after we arrived, another mother arrived with her almost-one-year old son. We were having a nice conversation and then… another mother arrived… and then another and another… and suddenly, it dawned on me: this is a meeting place for a play-group. And I don’t take issue with that. The park is a public spot. But this kind woman became totally oblivious to me as soon as her friends arrived. They literally took over the park, became very loud, crowded up top on the jungle gym and blocked the entrances to the slides so that Pea had to continually say “excuse me” to get to one of them, and no one thought “hey, this is a park… for the kids… let’s move this down to the ground.” I might also add in here that their kids were all one and under, with the exception of one child. These kids could barely stand, let alone walk and go down the slides. So it seemed like an odd place to congregate.

It was fun for a while to “label” everyone. The Queen Bee was easy to spot. She was the loudest of the huge bunch and occupied the highest spot. A queen, ruling over her dominion. The rest were followers. There was a lot of talk of pregnancies, husbands who disappointed and PMS. There was the mom who fawned – a little too much – over other women’s kids…

“Ooh, look at those gorgeous baby blues…”

“This one’s going to be a real heartbreaker, huh? Look at that, already making eyes at the girls…”

“You have the most beautiful hair… just so beautiful…”

And on and on and on. I kind of felt sorry for her. The new kid in school, trying so hard to get an “in.” It’s a shame that well into our 30s we are still reduced to this; this desperation in making simple connections with other women who seriously? We have so much in common with already: motherhood. I was promised it would be a great unifier. Turns out it’s been just the opposite for me. The great divider.

It was all a bit much for me, watching this clique and their inner workings. And how completely rude they were. I tried. I did. But doesn’t it ever get any easier? I swear, I haven’t felt that invisible since I was the new kid in school. In the 9th grade. Not a fun role to play. It sucked. And yes, I eventually made connections. But my God, I thought that I’d honestly left this crap behind when I left high school behind. It’s a shame to me that some women still carry this attitude with them into adulthood.

It’s not your park. It’s not all about you. Open your eyes. Take a look around. And try – please try – to say “hi” back to me when I pass you on the street. I promise, I don’t bite.