Party Pooper

Last week I made it to the daycare a little early. We have such a long commute, by the time we get there our kids are usually the only ones left. On this day I made it right in the middle of pick-up rush. That was a different experience. Noise and chaos and the confirmation that I should never work at a daycare.

We happened to walk out at the same time as another mom.  M2 yelled goodbye to her kids by name and because I have to talk to everyone, I made the off-handed comment "Oh, so that's the X I've heard so much about..." which prompted the mom to whip around and invite us to her birthday party.

In front of my kids.

If you're a parent, you know what that means - that the party becomes blazed into their brains and they won't forget about it. Ever.

She actually took it a step further and suggested they spend the night and she would take them to daycare on Monday. Now, just for context, let me point out that I've never spent any time with this woman, never had a conversation with her and didn't even know her name. Yeah, here are the two most valuable people in my life - sure I trust you with them...uh, what was your name again?

The minute the words were out of her mouth I regretted ever opening my mouth. Why, why was I so friendly? Why didn't I keep my head down, look angry and avoid eye contact like any reasonable mother would do?

The good thing, however, was that we were loading up kids. Yes, I strategically ushered my kids into the car as fast as I could. One,  it was an effort to prevent them from hearing the word "party" - I was hoping if I could get them in fast enough I could convince them she said something else. And two, I was trying to pretend to be so occupied that I couldn't really engage in conversation. It kinda worked because she just trailed off and said she would leave her contact number at the daycare.

So I was hopeful. Maybe she had realized she was overzealous in her invitation and wasn't really going to leave her number. Maybe she simply felt obligated to invite us. Maybe she would forget.

I am a slightly horrible person. Normally, I dread kid's birthday parties just because the standard selfishness of not wanting to spend my weekend time around a bunch of screaming kids, cooing over a child I don't know, and pretending stale cake and cheap ice cream is good. But I'm not a completely horrible mom so we always try to go. We make a very serious effort because I understand the importance of showing up on that special day.

But this one in particular was tough... I know this sounds so super judgemental but these are the dirtiest, rattiest kids at the daycare and their parents don't give a much better impression.

I really, really did not want to go to this party.

So the week goes by and no contact information. Not that I was asking for it - if someone forgets to give it to me then I'm safe.  So I didn't ask and I didn't get anything. I think I've dodged the bullet.

Then Friday, right as I'm stepping out the door, a teacher catches me and hands me a little slip of paper. Please be some homework. A newsletter. An incident report. Something, anything besides this woman's phone number.

I very slowly look down and...no. It's her number. And of course, now I've got to take the girls. Beyond the fact that they want to go, I can't disappoint some little girl just because I'm a judgemental snob.

So I got details and directions and we show up to everyone sitting in the front yard around a kiddie pool. Immediately it was evident that I was out of place as it appeared I was the only one that did not have a cigarette hanging out of my mouth or multiple children by different men.

I had been there about 2 whole minutes when the Dad, who was blowing up water balloons, pointed the hose at me and the cellphone in my hand. I shouldn't have been surprised though, he was clearly not used to following protocol or common courtesy as indicated by the huge "Rebel" tattoo scrawled down his forearm. Good news though, the mom was lucky enough to finally "snag" this guy - they're getting married "sometime soon". But hey, after four kids - why rush into things?

So guess who's going to be keeping her big, fat mouth shut from now on? Head down, unapproachable face on, eyes on the ground...