So...I have taken on a responsibility I never, ever thought I would entertain. I find myself shocked every day that I agreed to it, but it's actually more fun than I ever expected it to be. I'm a babysitter!
It all came about because my lovely young neighbor, who was their previous child care provider, became pregnant with twins and due to complications, was placed on bedrest at 14 weeks. This development left a very sweet woman without child care, and since I had helped out on other occasions, and times being what they were (Wizard of Oz reference, there), I took the job. It allows me to be at home more with Dad, who recently had another hospital stay, and makes a tremendous contribution to our gross household income.
Now, about my charges...Cutie is 13 months old and is just the sweetest, most adorable little girl! She doesn't talk much, which is fine by me, but she cutely babbles and sings herself to sleep. She has a wild mane of dark hair that refuses to be tamed and cheeks that weigh about 4 1/2 pounds each! She is a very good baby, though a little clingy at times. I guess that's what they do at that age. I enjoy having her around the house and Dad gets a kick out of her, but it does make for difficult scheduling of daytime appointments and such.
The there's Brubber...he's 8 and a 3rd grader who purports to know everything about everything. He is a beautiful boy with dancing brown eyes and eyelashes that I would rob a liquor store for, but man, he can be a pill! He loves to torment The Pie and unfortunately, she provides the response he desires. After all, she's a girl and her tendency to scream and stomp is statistically higher. He and The Pie occasionally find a calm middle ground, and I am ridiculously grateful for those moments. I drop him off at school after The Pie, and we have engaged in many interesting conversations, some quite revelatory and insightful for an 8 year old boy.
I wasn't sure at first how I would take to the new gig, but it is smoothing out and I am establishing a routine. The extra money helps make our ends meet and lessens the stress of worrying about finances on me. Ultimately, I feel like I am providing a much needed service, helping out a nice family, and meeting my responsibilities at home a little easier.
Blessings abound.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Dirty Girl
I do not claim to be a germaphobe, or a neat freak, nor do I suffer from an obsessive cleaning disorder. I have a limit of how much dirt I can tolerate and, admittedly, it’s not high. That is why I now face a challenge regarding my daughter.
When The Pie was very young, she hated getting her hands – really, any part of her – dirty, sticky or messy. She would chant, “dirty, dirty, dirty” if even the slightest bit of foreign substance landed on her. I prided myself on that behavior, thinking I was raising a conscious girl that would embrace cleanliness. But something changed…
The Pie has imposed a moratorium on bathing. I don’t know when; I don’t know how, but it seems she has taken on the characteristics of the Wicked Witch of the West and eschews water in all its forms. This particular ban also includes washing her hair and brushing her teeth. She comes home from a friend’s house or inside from playing in the backyard with dirt under her fingernails (and toenails. I gave up on forcing her to wear shoes a long time ago!), smears on her face and her hair tangled into something a sparrow would like to call home. She is barely recognizable as my daughter! When I mention a bath, she begins to whine like a jet engine.
I feel like some hygiene despot every time I force her to the tub; and the neighbors must think I’m shoving bamboo slivers into her eyes when I wash her hair. I think one night coyotes gathered in the driveway in response to her howling! Very often, getting The Pie into the bathtub is akin to wrestling a greased octopus. Legs and arms flail (hers and mine) in the endeavor of placing the girl in the water.
I just don’t understand this new aversion to bathing and maintaining her hygiene. Until about a month ago, she practically begged to take a bath, whined until I let her brush her teeth (sometimes 4 or 5 times a day!) and cried when I took away the dental floss. Is this just part of growing up? A phase she will eventually outgrow? I desperately hope so because I can’t face a future with a Pigpen Pie! Maybe a good hose-down once a week will do the trick? Or I could spray her with Febreze! Any suggestions?
When The Pie was very young, she hated getting her hands – really, any part of her – dirty, sticky or messy. She would chant, “dirty, dirty, dirty” if even the slightest bit of foreign substance landed on her. I prided myself on that behavior, thinking I was raising a conscious girl that would embrace cleanliness. But something changed…
The Pie has imposed a moratorium on bathing. I don’t know when; I don’t know how, but it seems she has taken on the characteristics of the Wicked Witch of the West and eschews water in all its forms. This particular ban also includes washing her hair and brushing her teeth. She comes home from a friend’s house or inside from playing in the backyard with dirt under her fingernails (and toenails. I gave up on forcing her to wear shoes a long time ago!), smears on her face and her hair tangled into something a sparrow would like to call home. She is barely recognizable as my daughter! When I mention a bath, she begins to whine like a jet engine.
I feel like some hygiene despot every time I force her to the tub; and the neighbors must think I’m shoving bamboo slivers into her eyes when I wash her hair. I think one night coyotes gathered in the driveway in response to her howling! Very often, getting The Pie into the bathtub is akin to wrestling a greased octopus. Legs and arms flail (hers and mine) in the endeavor of placing the girl in the water.
I just don’t understand this new aversion to bathing and maintaining her hygiene. Until about a month ago, she practically begged to take a bath, whined until I let her brush her teeth (sometimes 4 or 5 times a day!) and cried when I took away the dental floss. Is this just part of growing up? A phase she will eventually outgrow? I desperately hope so because I can’t face a future with a Pigpen Pie! Maybe a good hose-down once a week will do the trick? Or I could spray her with Febreze! Any suggestions?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Two Pees in a ...Bucket
Over the past few weeks, my house became the one where all the neighborhood kids liked to hang out. I prefer to think that it’s because I have a charming and charismatic daughter to whom they flock; or it may be my own fun and somewhat more laid back approach they enjoy. In any case, lots of kids hang out here but not once have they asked to use the bathroom. Yesterday, many things crystallized for me and I realized I was being duped.
When kids are playing and having fun, the last thing they want to do is stop the action to leave the group and go inside to use the facilities. So, my intelligent, problem-solving Pie devised a plan to urinate into a bucket in the garage. Then another friend thought it would be a good idea, as well. That way, no one had to get out of eyesight of what the kids were doing, and they wouldn’t miss anything fun. On the one hand, I can see the pragmatism of this solution. Who wants to be gone from their friends for three and a half minutes while emptying their bladder? Why not stay engaged and pee at the same time? On the other hand, as a mother, I see so many problems with this behavior, not the least of which is that I am the one most likely to have to empty the bucket!! The Pie and her neighbor friend have been caught urinating outside before and there have been consequences for both of them. It seems they were not harsh enough.
Yesterday, while I worked on a dining room remodel project, children from the neighborhood roamed in and out of the house, playing and riding bikes and generally being kids. At one point, I went outside into the lovely day and found The Pie “washing the car.” She had snuck some washcloths from the bathroom and busied herself with cleaning the windows and portions of the car body that she could reach. I asked where she got the water and she told me that Mike, the lawn-obsessed neighbor across the street, had filled the bucket with his garden hose. I registered no doubt or curiosity at this statement… but wait, there’s more. The Pie was so proud of the job she completed and thought the car was the shiniest it had ever been, that she began harassing me for money in exchange for the unsolicited wash. We joked around a little and as I was picking up the washcloths and the bucket she used, I noticed a pungent odor. A strong, definite smell of ammonia wafted to my nostrils.
While I found out later that it was, indeed, true that Mike had put water from the hose into the bucket, I was horrified to discover that The Pie and a friend also contributed to the level of liquid. It took a split second for me to realize that the shiny car in my driveway was soaked in the urine of my daughter and her friend. I sent everyone home, took the Pie inside and delivered swift justice; I doubt she will pee outside again.
But she did do a really good job on the car wash!
When kids are playing and having fun, the last thing they want to do is stop the action to leave the group and go inside to use the facilities. So, my intelligent, problem-solving Pie devised a plan to urinate into a bucket in the garage. Then another friend thought it would be a good idea, as well. That way, no one had to get out of eyesight of what the kids were doing, and they wouldn’t miss anything fun. On the one hand, I can see the pragmatism of this solution. Who wants to be gone from their friends for three and a half minutes while emptying their bladder? Why not stay engaged and pee at the same time? On the other hand, as a mother, I see so many problems with this behavior, not the least of which is that I am the one most likely to have to empty the bucket!! The Pie and her neighbor friend have been caught urinating outside before and there have been consequences for both of them. It seems they were not harsh enough.
Yesterday, while I worked on a dining room remodel project, children from the neighborhood roamed in and out of the house, playing and riding bikes and generally being kids. At one point, I went outside into the lovely day and found The Pie “washing the car.” She had snuck some washcloths from the bathroom and busied herself with cleaning the windows and portions of the car body that she could reach. I asked where she got the water and she told me that Mike, the lawn-obsessed neighbor across the street, had filled the bucket with his garden hose. I registered no doubt or curiosity at this statement… but wait, there’s more. The Pie was so proud of the job she completed and thought the car was the shiniest it had ever been, that she began harassing me for money in exchange for the unsolicited wash. We joked around a little and as I was picking up the washcloths and the bucket she used, I noticed a pungent odor. A strong, definite smell of ammonia wafted to my nostrils.
While I found out later that it was, indeed, true that Mike had put water from the hose into the bucket, I was horrified to discover that The Pie and a friend also contributed to the level of liquid. It took a split second for me to realize that the shiny car in my driveway was soaked in the urine of my daughter and her friend. I sent everyone home, took the Pie inside and delivered swift justice; I doubt she will pee outside again.
But she did do a really good job on the car wash!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
You Talkin' to Me?
I’ve met a lot of people in my years on this earth and I thought I had seen and heard almost everything, but the level of rudeness and insensitivity that currently exists in society stuns me. I have encountered several new people recently and in some instances, had an opportunity to share some minor personal details. One man, in his early 50s, had the audacity to say to me, “Why did you have a baby if couldn’t afford it?” Thankfully, I possess the smart-ass gene and replied: “I waited 42 years already…how long was I supposed to wait?”
I apparently labor under the misapprehension that the stigma of being a single mother is a thing of the past. I’m sure you lovely readers know at least one, if not more, single moms; if not, then you soon will. So as a community service, I am here to speak for all of them and advise you of the things you are never, EVER allowed to say to them:
· “Where’s the child’s father?” In my own situation, the true answer is, “I don’t know,” but the truth is…NONE of your business. If the single mom chooses to share a part of her story, then it’s her choice. But she feels judged enough…she doesn’t need to explain the circumstances surrounding how she became a single mother to someone she barely knows.
· “Do you work?” Of course, we work! Around the clock! If we maintain employment outside the home, we feel guilty that we don’t spend enough time with our child; if we don’t, we feel guilty turning to state funded assistance in hard times. When I was asked this question, I replied, “I am the manager of a site-specific project leveraging behavior modification against the acquisition of La La Loopsys.” Yeah, that lady turned almost as blue as her hair!
· “You look tired!” That’s just a polite way to say, “You look like hammered hippo shit!” Don’t try to act like it isn’t! Our minds never stop spinning; in our heads we make grocery lists, plan play dates, plan meals, make a budget – sometimes being alarmingly creative, schedule doctor appointments and school functions. We cook, clean, launder, sweep, vacuum, bathe, brush, scrub, straighten and straighten and straighten. No wonder we’re tired!
· “Dating must be hard.” Thank you Captain Obvious! What amazing insight you possess! It’s harder than Chinese calculus, but it can be done…I believe it’s possible. Perhaps not always successfully, but understand that we do it not with the ultimate goal of finding “a new daddy” for our child, but a special someone with which we can share our lives, regardless of our respective baggage.
· “How long have you been divorced?” Let’s not presume to think that in addition to raising a child alone, I failed in a marriage, too! You know what happens when you assume. Enough said!
· “Where is your daughter/son now?” Concert, dinner, shopping, movie…doesn’t matter. I am asked where The Pie is as if she should be at my side every second of the day. Do you really need to know? She’s not with me, so how far of a stretch is it for you to believe that I have left her in the care of a responsible adult? No, I didn’t leave her in charge of her grandfather at home, but I did pay extra to have the umbilical cord cut when she was born, so that she can build independence and I can maintain my sanity.
· “Let me know if you ever need a sitter.” It’s not really what you mean, so don’t even waste your breath saying it. I always need a sitter, but what you should really say is “I have some time Tuesday evening, why I don’t I take The Pie for a couple of hours so you can watch a Red Box movie that’s not animated?” Yeah, try that one! Single moms appreciate the offer, but it is irritatingly similar to suggesting that “we do this again sometime” or “let’s have lunch.” No one really means it.
· “I don’t know how you do it!” This has got to be the most annoying thing I hear on a regular basis. What I hear is that you have no faith in my ability to manage raising a child on my own, much less do it with barely enough money to make ends meet. Truth is, I’m not sure how I do it, either, but I do. And I do a damn good job of it. I’ve made bad choices, I admit, but I did it all for her and I was the only one to suffer the consequences. So if you utter this phrase to a single mom, don’t expect an outline of how she does it, because she has no idea how it works…but is just grateful that it does.
What I want to hear is that I am doing a good job. Don’t judge me if The Pie has a hair out place or is wearing her underpants backwards. Tell me that she is a wonderful reflection of me and she has a great role model. Don’t try to make me feel less of a person because I don’t have a husband – because at this point, I prefer it this way. And if you don’t have anything nice to say, then shut the hell up!!
I apparently labor under the misapprehension that the stigma of being a single mother is a thing of the past. I’m sure you lovely readers know at least one, if not more, single moms; if not, then you soon will. So as a community service, I am here to speak for all of them and advise you of the things you are never, EVER allowed to say to them:
· “Where’s the child’s father?” In my own situation, the true answer is, “I don’t know,” but the truth is…NONE of your business. If the single mom chooses to share a part of her story, then it’s her choice. But she feels judged enough…she doesn’t need to explain the circumstances surrounding how she became a single mother to someone she barely knows.
· “Do you work?” Of course, we work! Around the clock! If we maintain employment outside the home, we feel guilty that we don’t spend enough time with our child; if we don’t, we feel guilty turning to state funded assistance in hard times. When I was asked this question, I replied, “I am the manager of a site-specific project leveraging behavior modification against the acquisition of La La Loopsys.” Yeah, that lady turned almost as blue as her hair!
· “You look tired!” That’s just a polite way to say, “You look like hammered hippo shit!” Don’t try to act like it isn’t! Our minds never stop spinning; in our heads we make grocery lists, plan play dates, plan meals, make a budget – sometimes being alarmingly creative, schedule doctor appointments and school functions. We cook, clean, launder, sweep, vacuum, bathe, brush, scrub, straighten and straighten and straighten. No wonder we’re tired!
· “Dating must be hard.” Thank you Captain Obvious! What amazing insight you possess! It’s harder than Chinese calculus, but it can be done…I believe it’s possible. Perhaps not always successfully, but understand that we do it not with the ultimate goal of finding “a new daddy” for our child, but a special someone with which we can share our lives, regardless of our respective baggage.
· “How long have you been divorced?” Let’s not presume to think that in addition to raising a child alone, I failed in a marriage, too! You know what happens when you assume. Enough said!
· “Where is your daughter/son now?” Concert, dinner, shopping, movie…doesn’t matter. I am asked where The Pie is as if she should be at my side every second of the day. Do you really need to know? She’s not with me, so how far of a stretch is it for you to believe that I have left her in the care of a responsible adult? No, I didn’t leave her in charge of her grandfather at home, but I did pay extra to have the umbilical cord cut when she was born, so that she can build independence and I can maintain my sanity.
· “Let me know if you ever need a sitter.” It’s not really what you mean, so don’t even waste your breath saying it. I always need a sitter, but what you should really say is “I have some time Tuesday evening, why I don’t I take The Pie for a couple of hours so you can watch a Red Box movie that’s not animated?” Yeah, try that one! Single moms appreciate the offer, but it is irritatingly similar to suggesting that “we do this again sometime” or “let’s have lunch.” No one really means it.
· “I don’t know how you do it!” This has got to be the most annoying thing I hear on a regular basis. What I hear is that you have no faith in my ability to manage raising a child on my own, much less do it with barely enough money to make ends meet. Truth is, I’m not sure how I do it, either, but I do. And I do a damn good job of it. I’ve made bad choices, I admit, but I did it all for her and I was the only one to suffer the consequences. So if you utter this phrase to a single mom, don’t expect an outline of how she does it, because she has no idea how it works…but is just grateful that it does.
What I want to hear is that I am doing a good job. Don’t judge me if The Pie has a hair out place or is wearing her underpants backwards. Tell me that she is a wonderful reflection of me and she has a great role model. Don’t try to make me feel less of a person because I don’t have a husband – because at this point, I prefer it this way. And if you don’t have anything nice to say, then shut the hell up!!
Monday, September 3, 2012
Pie Theory
Some of the best conversations The Pie and I have had were during a nighttime car ride and this past weekend did not disappoint. On our way home from a friend’s house, The Pie began to wax philosophical while staring at the “Blue Moon.”
Pie: “Mama, what happens if all the people on Earth die?”
Me: “Then no one would be left to take care of it?”
Pie: “Would all the animals and plants and trees and lakes and oceans die, too?”
Me: “Probably. If there are no humans to take care of them, they just might.”
Pie: “Yeah.”
I knew it wouldn’t end there. It is not possible for her to leave something alone without exhaustively talking it out. Ok, here we go:
Pie:” Mama, I have an idea.”
Me: “Really, what’s that?”
Pie: “I think after all the people are dead, that God should send two angels back here in human being form to start all over.”
Me: “How would that work?”
Pie: “Well, God had to make sure they know all the rules to follow so they can take good care of everything and make more people so after the angels leave, everyone else will know how to take care of stuff.”
Me: “How will the angels make new people?”
Pie: “Mama (in a very annoyed tone), you KNOW how that happens. Duh!”
Me: (fighting laughter) “You’re right I do. Do you?”
Pie: “Yes. God puts special babies in ladies’ tummies that don’t have a husband and they are the best babies in the world and when they grow up they can save the world.”
Me: “That sounds pretty neat…are you one of those babies?”
Pie: “Well, yeah…it was my idea to bring the angels back and so I saved the world!”
Me: “That is fantastic!”
Pie: “Yeah…AND I did it in kindergarten!!”
Moments later, she fell asleep. Dreaming, I assume, of what wonderful feat she will accomplish next.
Pie: “Mama, what happens if all the people on Earth die?”
Me: “Then no one would be left to take care of it?”
Pie: “Would all the animals and plants and trees and lakes and oceans die, too?”
Me: “Probably. If there are no humans to take care of them, they just might.”
Pie: “Yeah.”
I knew it wouldn’t end there. It is not possible for her to leave something alone without exhaustively talking it out. Ok, here we go:
Pie:” Mama, I have an idea.”
Me: “Really, what’s that?”
Pie: “I think after all the people are dead, that God should send two angels back here in human being form to start all over.”
Me: “How would that work?”
Pie: “Well, God had to make sure they know all the rules to follow so they can take good care of everything and make more people so after the angels leave, everyone else will know how to take care of stuff.”
Me: “How will the angels make new people?”
Pie: “Mama (in a very annoyed tone), you KNOW how that happens. Duh!”
Me: (fighting laughter) “You’re right I do. Do you?”
Pie: “Yes. God puts special babies in ladies’ tummies that don’t have a husband and they are the best babies in the world and when they grow up they can save the world.”
Me: “That sounds pretty neat…are you one of those babies?”
Pie: “Well, yeah…it was my idea to bring the angels back and so I saved the world!”
Me: “That is fantastic!”
Pie: “Yeah…AND I did it in kindergarten!!”
Moments later, she fell asleep. Dreaming, I assume, of what wonderful feat she will accomplish next.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Triple D...Dating, Death and Dental Work
No one ever said it would be easy. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Had no expectation otherwise. But I was hoping for a little balance - instead of going through phases where nothing exciting happens, then suddenly being hit with a shitstorm – I prefer having my shit spread out in an even layer, thank you very much. Like Nutella on warm toast…
In the past 6 weeks or so, my limits have been tested, my sanity tried, my judgment questioned and my heart broken. Not necessarily in that order, because it seemed to come all at once! I felt overwhelmed and under prepared and as much as I tried to fake it, my grasp on everything slipped away.
Alzheimer’s took my favorite uncle from us. He was a sweet and funny man, a teacher and father of 6 – some of my favorite people in the world – but his final days were agonizing for him and everyone who loved him. I worried about how my father would accept the news of his brother’s death, but it happened the same day as the Colorado movie theatre tragedy, so he occupied himself with that instead. After the funeral, dad took a turn and proved more responsibility. His care took time, effort and skills that were already running low in the tank.
The Pie started kindergarten, so the adjustment from staying up late and sleeping in had to be made. With the God-given assistance of dissolvable melatonin tablets, I was able to get her back on a sleep schedule that coordinated with real life. First couple of days were a teeny bit rough, but we both survived, so I will gladly settle for that!
I had to have some nasty dental work done and that put me out of commission for about a week. I had 7 teeth pulled. I do not currently have dental insurance and the only viable option to end the discomfort was to have broken ones extracted. Oh, the pain! And eating soft foods was no picnic. Hey, pudding, Jell-O, applesauce, yogurt, I am no longer interested in you, I need to move on; on to something that can offer me more satisfaction…like Pecan Praline ice cream. I’ve spent years attempting to justify eating ice cream three times a day and finally found a way to do it! Who knew it would take approaching redneck status to do so?
My relationship with the Prince came to an end. I do not intend to delve into reasons, decisions or choices. He is a good man – he needs someone good. This one was all my decision, my reason, my choice. Still, dealing with it is stressful and difficult. Gives me a lot to untangle in that scary place inside my head!
My dad’s other brother passed away suddenly last week, adding more sadness to our family. He loved in Montana, so we hadn’t seen him in a while, but I reconnected with him via Facebook and loved him. I have really fantastic memories of childhood that involve him and his kids, so I choose to hold on to those right now. I have gotten closer to one of his daughter’s over the past few months because we share a similar situation; he lived with her. I can only send her prayers and words of comfort, but I wish there were something else I could do.
Now, the Pie presents with a loose tooth – her first. While at first I was excited and thrilled for her, I slowly came to the realization that she’s growing up. And doing it WAY faster than I want her to. Every single day of my life, no matter how crazy she makes me, I end the day with a thankful prayer of gratitude for her. The Big Guy knew what he was doing.
So I’m holding on, still believing that it will be ok soon. And if it isn’t, there is always ice cream….
In the past 6 weeks or so, my limits have been tested, my sanity tried, my judgment questioned and my heart broken. Not necessarily in that order, because it seemed to come all at once! I felt overwhelmed and under prepared and as much as I tried to fake it, my grasp on everything slipped away.
Alzheimer’s took my favorite uncle from us. He was a sweet and funny man, a teacher and father of 6 – some of my favorite people in the world – but his final days were agonizing for him and everyone who loved him. I worried about how my father would accept the news of his brother’s death, but it happened the same day as the Colorado movie theatre tragedy, so he occupied himself with that instead. After the funeral, dad took a turn and proved more responsibility. His care took time, effort and skills that were already running low in the tank.
The Pie started kindergarten, so the adjustment from staying up late and sleeping in had to be made. With the God-given assistance of dissolvable melatonin tablets, I was able to get her back on a sleep schedule that coordinated with real life. First couple of days were a teeny bit rough, but we both survived, so I will gladly settle for that!
I had to have some nasty dental work done and that put me out of commission for about a week. I had 7 teeth pulled. I do not currently have dental insurance and the only viable option to end the discomfort was to have broken ones extracted. Oh, the pain! And eating soft foods was no picnic. Hey, pudding, Jell-O, applesauce, yogurt, I am no longer interested in you, I need to move on; on to something that can offer me more satisfaction…like Pecan Praline ice cream. I’ve spent years attempting to justify eating ice cream three times a day and finally found a way to do it! Who knew it would take approaching redneck status to do so?
My relationship with the Prince came to an end. I do not intend to delve into reasons, decisions or choices. He is a good man – he needs someone good. This one was all my decision, my reason, my choice. Still, dealing with it is stressful and difficult. Gives me a lot to untangle in that scary place inside my head!
My dad’s other brother passed away suddenly last week, adding more sadness to our family. He loved in Montana, so we hadn’t seen him in a while, but I reconnected with him via Facebook and loved him. I have really fantastic memories of childhood that involve him and his kids, so I choose to hold on to those right now. I have gotten closer to one of his daughter’s over the past few months because we share a similar situation; he lived with her. I can only send her prayers and words of comfort, but I wish there were something else I could do.
Now, the Pie presents with a loose tooth – her first. While at first I was excited and thrilled for her, I slowly came to the realization that she’s growing up. And doing it WAY faster than I want her to. Every single day of my life, no matter how crazy she makes me, I end the day with a thankful prayer of gratitude for her. The Big Guy knew what he was doing.
So I’m holding on, still believing that it will be ok soon. And if it isn’t, there is always ice cream….
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Party Hearty?
I’ve been to several children’s birthday parties in my day, and in the past five years, I’ve even thrown a couple of fairly good ones. I think certain criteria must be met for a party to be labeled “successful” yet I seldom see an attempt to come close. I have a friend who has four children ranging in age from 18 months to 12 years and she set the bar very high with regards to kids’ birthday parties. She made a teapot cake, for Pete’s sake!!
I’ve been to parties where it’s just cake and ice cream and presents…those are fine by me - less time for kids to get bored and cranky. The activity parties are pretty nifty, too…either at a bowling alley, a roller skating rink, an arcade…something that all the kids can do all at once.
Pool parties make nervous.
And let me tell you why…
It is our nature as humans to socialize and enjoy each other when we get together, especially if the only time we adults gather is for a kid’s party! Most of the time, the adults’ attention is not on the pool, where it should be, but on the other adults in attendance. I am just as guilty as the next parent, chatting away while a kid is up to some form of malfeasance, or a toddler without floaties jumps into the deep end. Thankfully, there is a levelheaded person who can come to the rescue at some point, but what about those who just plain want to have their own fun? Yeah, there’s one in every crowd. Most recently, there were three.
At a Luau Pool party for a girl turning seven, I was stunned by the behavior of three men. With little regard to their own child’s safety, they wrestled and dunked each other, splashed little ones in the area, and challenged each other to crazy stunts. I spent the majority of the time watching the pool because most of the other adults were inside the pool house. My kid nearly drowned on two previous occasions; I don’t need another close call. I’m all for having a good time, but horseplay can quickly turn dangerous. Notice in the picture below how close children are to these oblivious men.
Adults should be allowed to have fun at childrens' birthday parties...just not at the expense of their children.
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| This woman has talent!! |
When the Pie was born, I looked forward to years of planning and throwing parties that were fun and memorable, keeping in mind the standard set years before by my lovely friend. First Birthday was small and intimate, with close friends and family in attendance and no real theme, save decorations of her birth month flower. Second birthday brought out a little more of the party planner in me and I went with a color coordinating motif of brown and pink. It was a rainy day so we had to move the party into my (at the time) very small house but everyone had a great time. I got into the zone for the Third Birthday, with a Teddy Bear’s Picnic theme at the park where we went on a bear hunt; Fourth Birthday was a Circus in a gazebo filled with food and games. This year we had a Rodeo Round Up of little cowgirls and cowboys in our backyard. When I pick a theme, I do it up right! Don’t think any different!!
I’ve been to parties where it’s just cake and ice cream and presents…those are fine by me - less time for kids to get bored and cranky. The activity parties are pretty nifty, too…either at a bowling alley, a roller skating rink, an arcade…something that all the kids can do all at once.
Pool parties make nervous.
And let me tell you why…
It is our nature as humans to socialize and enjoy each other when we get together, especially if the only time we adults gather is for a kid’s party! Most of the time, the adults’ attention is not on the pool, where it should be, but on the other adults in attendance. I am just as guilty as the next parent, chatting away while a kid is up to some form of malfeasance, or a toddler without floaties jumps into the deep end. Thankfully, there is a levelheaded person who can come to the rescue at some point, but what about those who just plain want to have their own fun? Yeah, there’s one in every crowd. Most recently, there were three.
At a Luau Pool party for a girl turning seven, I was stunned by the behavior of three men. With little regard to their own child’s safety, they wrestled and dunked each other, splashed little ones in the area, and challenged each other to crazy stunts. I spent the majority of the time watching the pool because most of the other adults were inside the pool house. My kid nearly drowned on two previous occasions; I don’t need another close call. I’m all for having a good time, but horseplay can quickly turn dangerous. Notice in the picture below how close children are to these oblivious men.
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