Dockers asks what would be said if your pants could talk, and I couldn’t pass that up!

In answer to the Dockers contest which asks “What if your pants could talk“, I had to really wonder what my favorite pants would say about me? One minute they’re getting attacked by children with sticky fingers, and the next by a dog with scratchy claws. We go from sitting in the home office, to driving all over town, to partying it up all night at our favorite bars. I’ve spilled syrup, milk, beer, ice cream, engine oil, nail polish, bleach, coffee (LOTS of coffee) and goodness knows what else all over my favorite pants and yet somehow they still survive. In a given day those pants will get me through the role of mom, wife, chef, businesswoman, entertainer, promoter, flirt, handyman, and all-around general wonder woman. It’s amazing to me that my favorite pants aren’t completely ripped at the seams or in hiding from all the abuse they suffer. Instead they hold true, make me look and feel great and are as dependable as sunshine (which here in Phoenix is pretty darn dependable).

I’d enter the Dockers TV Commercial Contest, but truth be told, these pants don’t slow down long enough to get caught on film! However I’d love to see what your pants have to say about you!

I live in a somewhat affluent suburban neighborhood. My house is the biggest floorplan in this master-planned community. We have newer cars in the driveway. Our children wear $70 skate shoes and want for nothing. I work from home, barbeque on the weekends and just learned how to use a sewing machine. He pulls weeds, taught the youngest boy to ride a bike and is the breadwinner and king of our household. We’re about as normal as it gets don’t you think?

So imagine my surprise when I found out that one of the mothers on our block started taking her kids to the bus-stop 3 blocks over rather than have them wait with my children. With me? Since the day we moved into this neighborhood it seems that the other parents have gone out of their way to make us feel unwelcome and I’m grasping at straws to figure out what terrible atrocity we’ve committed to deserve such stonewall treatment. Did I offend them because I don’t have the rear of a woman whose had a few children? Does it bother them that my children speak their mind? Do they have such a hard time accepting “strangers” in their little cookie-cutter paradise that they’d rather just run away? I want to know what conditioning this species of suburban housewife has undergone to make them so skiddish and reclusive. And since I’m not willing to change bus-stops just to talk to the other mothers, I’ve decided to share a few general tips on how to welcome a new neighbor into your community.

1. Introduce yourself. Yes you, the woman who has a child in the same kindergarten class as mine. The woman I’ve seen every morning for 4 months now as you sit in your car at the bus-stop and never get out. It’s ok… I won’t bite.
2. Stop by just to chat. Again, there will be no biting. I saw the Nascar posters in your garage. I love racing. It’s a conversation starter.
3. When I ask how’s it going, I really want to know how it’s going. “Fine” isn’t a real answer. Tell me you had a great weekend. Tell me your baby won’t stop crying. Tell me you’ve got family visiting. Fluff conversations suck and they do nothing but waste breath.
4. Live a little… schedule a playdate.
5. Ask for advice. Offer advice. You’ve lived here a while and I just barely found the grocery store. Find a reason to be helpful.

And no matter what, don’t ostracize the new neighbors. You never know if they’ll be the only one home when you’re banging on doors looking for refuge in a zombie attack!