By: Lara Winburn
I am not very cool. I want to be, but I am often late to trends if I know them at all. Case in point. Years ago, I kept hearing my friends talk about David Yurman – I finally asked one of them whether he was someone we went to college with.
Therefore, I do not keep up with the Joneses. Even if I wanted to, I would always be a few steps behind. Don’t get me wrong, I often want to, but the Jones’ seem to have more time and money than me. But I was really surprised when I noticed it seems some folks are now keeping up with the Jones’ baby.
Since having children, I have learned there are cool daycares, the right dance studio, popular parks, and even strollers that are up to par for the Jones’. I mean -even I have a particular luxury stroller with a certain man’s name (thank you brother-in-law)….but I would venture a guess that Steve’s stroller for $200 less dollars may be just as good (sorry brother in-law). My stroller might be equipped for a marathon or off-roading, but this driver is not.
I recently heard a mom talking about where her daughters would debut. In the small town where I grew up, I did not know anyone who debuted. (That might have changed since I’ve moved away.) In my early college years, I had a lot of fun at parties watching my friend’s debut. Who knows, maybe one day I will really want my daughter to debut? I am all for a good ball. But you know what, this girl talking about where her daughters will debut has a two and four year old. Heaven, help me. I am not yet thinking about debutantes and white gloves-I am still stuck on pampers and white bows.
Don’t even get me started on the Jones’ and their birthday parties. They have “pinned,” smocked and cake-popped us a birthday heaven. I attend these parties, I ENJOY these parties, but I know I cannot keep up. I am okay with that. Why should I try to keep up? Like I said, I am not cool.
I do want my babies to have the best. I want them to have wonderful friends, a good education, themed birthday parties and even cute clothes. That means that sometimes we need to be at the popular park, which is probably the safest. And even if I don’t always know exactly how to get there, I have a fast and very maneuverable stroller for the trip. Maybe I will see you and the Jones’ there.
But this is what I do know: this parenting thing is hard enough without feeling like we need to keep up with the Jones’ baby. For now, you will find me at home with my family and a very popular French giraffe named Sophie. (One thing the Jones’ and I probably have in common.)