A Different World
We took Abbie to a 1-year-old’s birthday party today. Her family lives in a different part of town than we do. We live in an old neighborhood in central Des Moines where most trees are bigger than houses, and we share a nearby park with our many neighbors. They live in the exurbs, where some trees are bigger than toddlers, and the playgrounds largely haven’t been built yet, but that’s okay because several homes have nicer equipment in their backyards than our park does.
We hopped on the interstate and drove until the concrete shoulder sprouted grass. Then we exited the interstate and drove a little further, about 30 minutes total. We were late arriving since the party’s start conflicted heavily with naptime, so the house was mostly full when we arrived. The guests largely looked at us with wonder, and not just because we had twins with us.* We are a family of five, which is about two members larger than most of the other families in attendance. The birthday girl’s grandparents both spawned larger families, and one of the families had three or four girls; the other half-dozen or so families with children in attendance had one child, probably under one year of age. This makes sense since most of the neighborhood homes weren’t much older than a year.
Not only were most families smaller and younger than ours, but also I was pretty sure I was the only stay-at-home parent of school-age children at the party besides birthday girl’s mother and the mother of the girls. I don’t want to ever criticize the choice of a parent to stay at home or work because it’s a deeply personal choice with advantages and drawbacks to each; being a stay-at-home parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and lord knows there are days I’d like to work outside the home just to get away.** That said, I could see a difference in the level of involvement between myself and most of the other parents. I spent most of my time entertaining Abbie, reading to her, singing to her, and taking away that knife she found. Some of the other parents just didn’t seem as aware of their child; they mingled while their child flailed uninterestedly in their laps. Granted, these were all children younger than Abbie who didn’t need much more than a shiny object in the distance to entertain them, and I may have just been jealous that these parents could sit and talk while I had to literally jump over another child at one point to prevent Abbie from spilling a can of soda pop that I didn’t realize she could reach, but it still broke my heart to see a girl trying to get someone to read to her. I would have read to her, but I was too busy diverting Abbie from other children’s bottles and sippy cups left haphazardly lying around by the other parents. I think one of the fathers was pretty ticked off at us after Abbie tried snatching his sippy cup on several occasions, but that’s what he gets for just putting it back down on the floor after I redirect Abbie. He got me back by not letting me into the parenting clique he’d formed at the party. I got him back by letting Abbie take a sip before I grabbed her.
Otherwise we had fun. I had cake, I had soda pop, I had cookies, and sometimes I even shared with Abbie. We sang happy birthday, and Abbie added her applause after the candle went out. Then we drove home. I just wish we didn’t have to drive so far.
* There was another set of twins at the party anyway.
** I call these days “weekdays.”
We hopped on the interstate and drove until the concrete shoulder sprouted grass. Then we exited the interstate and drove a little further, about 30 minutes total. We were late arriving since the party’s start conflicted heavily with naptime, so the house was mostly full when we arrived. The guests largely looked at us with wonder, and not just because we had twins with us.* We are a family of five, which is about two members larger than most of the other families in attendance. The birthday girl’s grandparents both spawned larger families, and one of the families had three or four girls; the other half-dozen or so families with children in attendance had one child, probably under one year of age. This makes sense since most of the neighborhood homes weren’t much older than a year.
Not only were most families smaller and younger than ours, but also I was pretty sure I was the only stay-at-home parent of school-age children at the party besides birthday girl’s mother and the mother of the girls. I don’t want to ever criticize the choice of a parent to stay at home or work because it’s a deeply personal choice with advantages and drawbacks to each; being a stay-at-home parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and lord knows there are days I’d like to work outside the home just to get away.** That said, I could see a difference in the level of involvement between myself and most of the other parents. I spent most of my time entertaining Abbie, reading to her, singing to her, and taking away that knife she found. Some of the other parents just didn’t seem as aware of their child; they mingled while their child flailed uninterestedly in their laps. Granted, these were all children younger than Abbie who didn’t need much more than a shiny object in the distance to entertain them, and I may have just been jealous that these parents could sit and talk while I had to literally jump over another child at one point to prevent Abbie from spilling a can of soda pop that I didn’t realize she could reach, but it still broke my heart to see a girl trying to get someone to read to her. I would have read to her, but I was too busy diverting Abbie from other children’s bottles and sippy cups left haphazardly lying around by the other parents. I think one of the fathers was pretty ticked off at us after Abbie tried snatching his sippy cup on several occasions, but that’s what he gets for just putting it back down on the floor after I redirect Abbie. He got me back by not letting me into the parenting clique he’d formed at the party. I got him back by letting Abbie take a sip before I grabbed her.
Otherwise we had fun. I had cake, I had soda pop, I had cookies, and sometimes I even shared with Abbie. We sang happy birthday, and Abbie added her applause after the candle went out. Then we drove home. I just wish we didn’t have to drive so far.
* There was another set of twins at the party anyway.
** I call these days “weekdays.”
posted by Matt at
11:11 PM
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