Over the weekend I attended a neighborhood BBQ. Being "socially challenged" as I am, my attendance at this event was quite the big-to-do for me. Especially considering there was a soccer game that night and I chose to go to the BBQ instead. Alone. Without my husband there to shield me from the social trauma that is my attempting to make small talk with people I barely know. Well, I wasn't technically alone, I took Alex with me, but he wasn't much help, even if his conversational skills are somewhat better developed than mine.
Part of the reason I thought I should go to this shin-dig was because it was being held, literally, right in front of our house. John did not feel the responsibility to attend that I did, and he happily left for the game leaving me at home frantically slicing watermelon for the potluck.
The BBQ was to begin at 5:30, but I thought I'd be fashionably late, and walk out the door at 6:00. Of course, I was ready for the BBQ at 5:00 and I spent the hour peeking out my front window blinds to see how many people were already arriving. Finally I installed Alex in his stroller, packed his diaper bag with formula, baby food and diapers (because apparently I thought being way out there in my front yard is too far to walk to Alex's bedroom for a changing.) I picked up my gargantuan platter of freshly sliced seedless watermelon and walked down my driveway and into the party, dropping slices of watermelon the whole way.
I had a surprisingly good time. My neighbors are fantastic. Not like other neighbors we've had, who forever avoid eye contact after they find out we're not members of "The Church". These neighbors genuinely like us and after the obligatory "are you Mormon" question we got from everyone when we first moved in, have continued to smile and wave and make small talk about the weather when we're out in our yards or taking the baby and dog for a walk. There are also a couple other non-Mormon neighbors on the block, so we're not the only ones. Given that we live within one block of two LDS churches, it's unusual that there are several of us in the area.
The highlight of the BBQ was getting to reconnect with a couple of old friends from grade school that I haven't seen since I was 13 years old. I grew up in a neighborhood close by and went to the schools in our current neighborhood. There are several families that still live there from when I was a kid, and their grown children came out for the party as well. I found myself sitting around with these old friends, now women with families, reminiscing about our childhood and giggling about rumors of the boys we used to like and how some of the popular girls are now fat (I was always chubby, so I haven't changed much). It amazes me how we all turned out. One of them is a stay-at-home-mom with four kids and looking forward to having two or three more. The other has two bi-racial boys with different fathers and only sees her current husband on the weekends because he works out of state. Another is a recovering meth-addict and single mom. My favorite quote from the evening "Oh yea, I remember your house had that huge painting of a naked lady" (my parents were hippie / artists who loved nudes. Had them all over our house. This was a point of much embarassment for me during my childhood, though now, I'm wishing I still had the nekkid lady painting, it would look fantastic in my bedroom.)
I enjoyed visiting with the other neighbors as well. Since I've become a mother myself, I find it surprisingly easy to hold long detailed conversations about breast feeding, episiotomies and funny poop stories.
In the end, the BBQ was a great sucess and I am very glad I skipped out on the soccer game to go. I made some new friends, and reconnected with old ones. The only downside is that I think I've tapped out my social reserve and I'll be avoiding any future get togethers for at least another six months or so until I fully recover from all the socializing I did this weekend.
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