Welcome to Zombieland

The dictionary defines ‘zombie’ as 
a) a person whose behavior or responses are wooden,listless, or seemingly rote; automaton.
b) an eccentric or peculiar person.
or 
c) a tall drink made typically with several kinds of rum, citrusjuice, and often apricot liqueur.


And while it is 5 o’clock (in the am not pm) I’m not drinking a ‘Zombie’, and most of you already know that I’m kind of a ‘peculiar person’ (to quote Lydia: “I, myself am strange and unusual”). But due to the long day yesterday, a rather sleepless night last night and being awake as the sun comes up, the end result is going to be me being somewhat of an automaton today.

I am seeing large, dark sunglasses and a permanent cup of coffee (or ‘cupfee’ as Little P calls it) constantly in my hand today.

And I know I’m not alone here. There’s been many a day when I’ve taken Little P to the park and I’ve been around other parents who are like me (dark sunglasses, coffee in hand, trying desperately to be energetic but mostly just having trouble stringing words together to make a sentence). And there is always, always, one parent who is so full of energy and pep it’s annoying (and I do mean that in the nicest possible way).

Perfect example: couple of weeks ago, at a park earlier than usual just because Little P was particularly amped up that day and M needed some sleep, there were the unusual suspects: a daddy with 3 kids (he has them on the weekends, ages 2,4 and 6 – couldn’t tell you his name but I know the names of the kids – funny that, huh?), a grandma with her granddaughter who is a little older than P and a Momma, like me, with just the one little one running around. Everything is moving along at the pace we like, kids playing, quite sipping of our coffee’s, when in walks what I can only describe as a female version of Richard Simmons – complete with spandex leggings (I kid you not).

Now, when I say ‘walk’ I mean ‘bounced’ into the playground, 3 kids in tow, and directs them to where they should be playing (yup, organized play for these kiddies). She comes over to where I am standing with the other Momma and announces how she just ‘lurves coming to the park when it’s all fresh and bright and early’. And proceeds to denounce pretty much everything about us. Why are we drinking coffee? You know, green tea is soooo much better for you – cleans you out. What’s with the dark glasses? You expecting paparazzi to be snapping pictures? I don’t like sunglasses, affects my ability to see clearly (?). Standing in the sun like this, I hope you are wearing SPF 1000 (laughs like a donkey at this, I swear). 

This barrage continues for another 10 minutes or so, when she gets distracted from us by her kiddies arguing. The other Momma and I look at each other, and she says, ‘did we just get attacked by the Tasmanian Devil?’. This cracked me up for two reasons. One, I don’t think we have said more than a couple of words to each other, ever (usually because I think we both know we aren’t up to polite conversation at that time of the morning) and two, the reference to the Tasmanian Devil gave me visions of this woman slobbering at the mouth, making weird noises and spinning wildly out of control. 

Since then, Margaret (that’s her name) and I, when we see each other at the park in the early morning, just nod and smile. We may be zombies, but we are united in our ‘zombieness’.

So, for now, this zombie is going to top up her coffee, maybe get in a ‘little’ Pinterest, and prepare herself for the day ahead.

Till next time, be good zombies and eat your brains.





Mommy-ism #5: large, dark sunglasses become a necessity. They are handy at hiding the dark circles that have apparently become a permanent addition to your face & help you to feel somewhat normal (re: less a zombie). If you haven’t already, invest in multiple pairs. Trust me, you will need more than one.


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