I decided recently that if I sent out playdate invites to my mom friends, they would look like this:
For: A playdate for our kids, since they don’t circle the neighborhood anymore until they either get so bored that they stop, or someone else comes outside to play.
Where: Preferably my house, because then I pretend that I’m keeping my baby on her schedule, when I attempt to get her down for her nap, even though she’ll likely not sleep because she’s too alert, and will refuse to miss out on the fun. Also, because I’m allergic to your cats and dogs. And because I drink water like a multi-ton mammal, and this way I have easy access to the massive reserve of water (we live in a well-water community) that I keep stockpiled as if I’ll have to head into an underground bunker.
But we could make your house work, too.
When: Ideally—let’s be honest—there is no good time.
Juggling a playdate between our older children’s schedules, my youngest still nursing, pick-up times for your kid in full-day school, my allergy shot, your doctor appointment, etc, etc is the main reason I haven’t seen you in real life in months.
Let’s just say Wednesday at 2.
BYOD Bring your own diapers—just kidding! I keep those stocked up alongside my water. (I am, however, only sharing so much from my wine supply.)
Why: Because I’m beginning to feel like I don’t get my social-butterfly girls together with other kids enough, and I’m wondering if there’s some point where that makes me a totally shitty mom. And because if I don’t have a conversation with another adult within the next two days, I might appear full-on insane the next time I talk waaaaay too much to the cashier at Earth Fare.
RSVP: You should probably just text. Because, frankly, I will likely not answer the phone.
Generally, every time I see an incoming call, this coincides exactly with smelling poop, and then having to find the source. If I do answer the phone, it will take us about five minutes to get a handful of sentences out to each other, because it never ever fails that every single freaking time I make a phone call, my kids both urgently need me for something completely unimportant, or they whine until I finally abruptly end the phone call (and then vow not to use this function of my phone for at least another week).
Hope to see you soon! I’ll be crossing my fingers that, within this week it took us to plan our playdate, my kids don’t get their 195th cold of the season.