Silly Mommy, Playdates are for kids!

I spend so much time with my girls on our own, especially during the summer, that we often joke about being a little team.  We eat, sleep, hang out, swim, drive, play together and in between meet up with other mommies and their troupes, go shopping, and talk about life.  I ask them lots of questions and give them answers that I hope are empowering and uplifting, answers that I hope will strengthen them and give them courage.  So when Lily had a playdate this afternoon and a family pal came over to play with Virginie, I found myself the odd man out.

I spent the first hour sitting outside with Lily and her friend, Virginie hanging on the edge of their play,me listening about three yards away, chiming in when I thought the conversation or action needed to move along and basically, occupying myself by being completely involved in their game.  It would have been pathetic if I didn't become so acutely aware of it and pull back.  It started to drizzle, so I had the girls come in and continue their fun at the dining table.  We had popcorn and juice and worked on drawings of Lalaloopsy and Rapunzel, with my flourishes getting lots of attention and providing many hand cramps.  When they moved on to the next activity, dress up in the playroom, Virginie's friend had arrived and I realized that the time for me to roll back had come.

Playdates don't have to be Camp Mommy for all the kids who come over.  In fact, they'd prefer if I would just leave them be and hang back, available if real help is needed, but not really part of the action.  If they want to make a mess, draw, glue, glitter, dress up, dance, sing, pretend to be rebellious teenagers, what they don't want is my middle-aged behind somehow intervening or, worse, getting in on the action.  I am now sitting in the dining room on the computer, writing, reading articles, watching the clock, and listening.  The girls are having a ball.  Lily just shouted out something about making their own rules and they all cheered.  The little ones are dressed as a bee and Ariel the Mermaid respectively and the two older ones (all of six years old) are dressed as beautiful princess-explorers.  The playroom is a mess.  I have said only once, okay three times, that whatever mess is made has to be cleaned by small people, but other than that, I have stayed out...well, except to pick up the popcorn bowls.  I don't want ants.

This is a good lesson for protective, attentive me.  They want some down time, some alone time, some being on their own time.  And so do I.  I love the people they are becoming.  I love that they have their own friends and their own rules.  And even though this crazy shindig is going on at my house and I will deal with the aftermath of cleaning, vacuuming, straightening, I am grateful to be this fly on the wall into their characters, friendships, and development.  When the day is done, and the girls are falling asleep telling me the things they loved about this day, I know that they will be thankful for this time.  And completely worn out.


(c)  Copyright 2012.  Repatriated Mama:  Back to the Suburban Grind.