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Sunday, Apr. 21, 2013 - 7:12 a.m.

Went to a birthday party for a little girl from Q's gym class yesterday. Q had a lot of fun. Observations: there were only little girls there. That's a pity; I'm not a fan of gender segregation. Everyone else brought gigantic gift bags with tissue paper in them. We brought a little present with handmade wrapping paper. I felt awkward. Although I think our present was a good one. (Craypas. Let's hear it for real art supplies!)

Overheard the following exchange between a mother and her 3 year old: [girl eating birthday cake] Mom: "Stop. Stop eating." Girl: "But-- no-- I want--". Mom: "Stop. That's enough. You can have one more bite. [Feeds it to her]. _No one_ finishes their cake." (this last bit was sort of hissed, or at least said emphatically)

Me: [having just finished my cake and rather thinking about getting a second piece because they were small]. !

Someone's already well on her way to eating disorders! Good job, mom! (I know I'm supposed to be all non-judgmental of other mothers because parenting is hard and blah blah blah, but really.)

Not that I don't limit Q's food intake. But my rule is, once it's in front of her, it's fair game. Especially at a birthday party.

I look forward to telling this anecdote to my mother, queen of the clean plate.

What else...

Ah yes, women who are sartorially well put together make me nervous. Even if they seem very nice. I feel out of place and as though I must have nothing in common with them. Although that is probably not true.

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