Play date or pain the ass

The play date. How many of these things have I attended or hosted over the past five freakin’ years? Don’t get me wrong, they can be fun—really. Especially if your host has read The Three-Martini Playdate cover to cover and accepted its message as gospel we should live by. But up until recently “play date” has largely meant mothers accompanying their young to a certain locale and still being responsible for their own children during said soiree. It’s like, “hey this job I’m doing will be a whole lot more fun if I’ve got a running buddy.” Maybe there’s also a “little misery loves company” going on? Or not…just sayin’.

But anyway, now we’re switching it up. My kids’ friends’ moms and me somehow started hosting these play dates sans the other parents. As in, “I no longer have drinking buddies while the kids try to burn the house down.” More like, “I’ll bring your kids home from school with me today as long as you are willing to take my demons tomorrow.” Believe it or not, it’s not all bad—the lovely little additions on these magical afternoons almost work in the same way a new toy might: my own kids are so infatuated with having their friends over they forget to fight with each other. So really, what might be disguised as altruistic babysitting, the play date now satisfies a mother’s need to keep her children from fighting with each other (or bugging her).

Well, today Middle Man is enjoying a last minute, after school play date at the home of one of his friends. Hazzah! I’m down a child! Middle Man gets to play with his friend! Other Mom gets some peace while the boys beat on each other! We all win! And as I’m almost giggling on my way home from school with one less child in the car, it hits me: Crap! now I get to be BMoC’s play mate for the afternoon. So, while Middle Man and his buddy play superheroes, BMoC kicks rocks outside, pissed that he doesn’t have anyone to play with. While Other Mom relaxes and lets Middle Man and friend entertain each other, I field requests to be a pirate, dinosaur, alien, play army and answer never-ending questions simply because BMoC can’t stand silence for more than 10 seconds.

Painful lesson learned: the play date swap only works when I have a balance in the home—I get rid of one kid, but still need to bring a new one in to keep the other one happy. Kind of like when you take your car into the shop, you need a loaner. That’s me with my boys.

So next week I guess I’m inviting my kids’ friends over to our house. That’ll teach those other moms to try and give me the afternoon off.