Sunday, January 20, 2008

I think it's just me

I think I'm way too picky. About a lot of things, but in this case, people.

Evan and I went to a birthday party for one of the kids who used to be in his class but mom has now decided to stay at home and is making a strong effort to keep in touch with the kid's friends. All 25 of them. It was actually a very good party at a local firehouse, and the kids got to sit in the fire engine (I learned a fire engine has the hoses, and fire trucks have ladders), take a tour, try on some gear, then ate some pizza and cake and called it a day. Don't worry, I still have things to complain about, but I think I'm more of the problem here than other people :-)

A lot of kids, more than I can count on one hand, had pants that were at least an inch too short. This drives me nuts. I can sense when my kids pants are STARTING to get short and cannot rest until the next size bin has been pulled out of the attic (for Eric) or I have made a trip to the local stores for new pants (for Evan). Some kids, birthday boy included, looked as though they are dressing themselves and no one has ever made an effort to show them how to dress appropriately for the weather/occasion. Evan picked out his own outfit and knew to pick a shirt out his closet (slightly nicer stuff) and even had the great idea to pick out the sweater with a fire truck on it because he knew the party was at the firehouse. I was very proud and extremely happy not to have to argue with him about what he was going to wear.

There is a boy in Evan's class who has a younger sister in Eric's class and both sets of kids get along very well. I know they live close by, and it dawned on me this would be a nice playdate for the 4 kids. Then I started talking to the mom and I'm not sure I could hang out with HER for an hour or apologies if you are an overly 'cautious' parent reading this, but this lady was down right paranoid about everything. Like she said they would not be taking a balloon home because when a friend of hers was little, a balloon popped and went into her mouth and the paramedics had to come pull it out and revive her. Or she wouldn't have her kid's party at a playground that had a fire pole because, at another party, a kid got pushed (by accident) and fell ~5 feet to the ground while waiting to use the fire pole. I know these are all bad things and I'm not trying to make light of these events, but the likelihood of these things happening? I compared it to never taking your kid in the car because they might be hurt in a car accident. My favorite though, was how she doesn't like to give her kids antibiotics, yet she knows the pharmacist so well they will actually fill the prescription if she calls them on the phone (and then gives them the paper when she gets there). And they will bring it out to her car. Is this normal?

Or I could just be worried of her opinion of me, a mom who refuses to throw away a cabinet that nearly fell on my kid's head and leaves outlets exposed (very few and not on purpose) and leaves the bathroom when Evan is in the shower (usually just to put away laundry in the kids rooms). Could I survive a playdate with this lady? Do I need to just get over all my 'requirements' and maybe open the door a little bit with the potential to gain a new friend or two or even just someone I can get along with well enough for our kids to play together?


  1. I am all of those moms, so I know you can do the playdate and survive!

    Aubrey wears completely inappropriate clothes. All. the. time. And I freak out about EVERYTHING, just like that one mom. Seriously I do.

    So GO FOR IT! I bet all those women like country music too.

  2. I had not even thought of the country music've scared me right back into my hole ;-)

  3. I thought Aubrey's dress today looked VERY cute...even if it had a rip in it! And it might be good for you to hang out with her - she'll do all the stressing about the kids and you'll have LOTS of things to blog about later on!
    I think that Tommy needs to learn how NOT to hurt himself - John is the worrier!