Grumpiest Momma in the World

-or- Why Doesn't Lysol Make a Body Spray??

I have been babysitting a friend's children, ages 3, 5, and 13 mos. on Monday and Tuesday while she teaches, from about 9:15 to 11:45 A.M. I alternate between feeling like this is a real challenge, and that it is pretty cool. I have those "losing my mind" moments. My days of watching 5-7 children at one time are long gone, and while none of the children were mine (they were cousins and siblings), they were known entities, and I was familiar with the dynamic between them all. There is a difference watching non-related children! On the other hand, it is really not difficult, just busy, and there is something vaguely comforting to know that there are kids all over one's house playing.

So on Tuesday, she proposed lunch. Now, I was raised by a mother who avoided playplaces like the plague. In fact, she avoided them in part because of the plague. And if we ever did venture into places like Chuck-e-Cheese's, she knew that (although the kids were certain to get sick afterward) at least I was there to make sure they weren't lost or trampled. So I am a total germophobe. I am deeply suspicious of other children--ones whose parents I don't know. And I am not thrilled with play area precipices and climbing walls and giant tubes that swallow up toddlers. I can't do like so many parents and "let the kids play," particularly when I don't know the kids in question. So I end up watching my own child and monitoring every body else's. This makes for a very stressed momma. I don't think my son went on public play equipment until he was 6. I may exaggerate, but not much.

Now, my friend is very laid-back with this sort of thing. Because of her, I have taken Doodle to a "splash park" (for a birthday party)--unfortunately, my friend's mother will forever think of me as "the one with the little girl who ran and ran and it took three of them to keep track of her." I have taken Doodle to a children's museum with my friend, who laughed while I trailed my too-young-for-most activities toddler. I have taken Doodle to an egg hunt with other kids AND let her play on playground equipment. And, finally, I have taken her to McDonald's. *sigh* It is because of this friend that "fry" was among Doodle's first words!! It's a good influence, in a way. I have been venturing to parks (especially sparsely populated ones) with my three lately, and I am not sooooo paranoid. . . But I still find these situations incredibly stressful.

So we went to McDonald's. With a HUUUUUGE play area. And, as my husband points out, those things really aren't cleaned. At least with outside equipment, the sun is beating down on them, and rain, and some germs are cleaned off. Gee, thanks, hon. Have I mentioned that he & I think a lot alike? ;)

This McD's is newer (hence, cleaner) than some. It has separate (though not divided) areas for ages 3 and under and for bigger kids. When we got there, after eating, the place was positively overrun, and yet many kids had left while we were eating (!!). Being with someone else means that you can't turn tail and run, however, unless the other person shares your particular brand of paranoia.

The first thing I did--before putting down the baby in the carseat--was run the 7-13 year olds (who were using it for "base"--and that means "recipe for rowdiness") off of the toddler area. I asked them, "How old are you? Then leave this part for the smaller kids!" I asked on little boy of 6 or 7, "Are you 3 years old? No? Then go play over there!" People thought I was insane, but no one could argue. A parent or two came over to see what the crazy lady was up too, and why she didn't leave the other kids alone. After surveying the situation, they instructed the older ones to keep to the other area. Then, I just had to make sure no one ran UP the toddler slide, careening into descending toddlers.

A few little girls were being more calm, so I relaxed my vigilance, although they were older. They took an interest in the toddlers and set up "house" on the toddler side. One took Doodle for a "walk" to an area where a video game had once been, and I followed (and was advised by other mothers that there was no outlet there--yeah, but some little girl has my toddler by the hand!!) I had to interfere with the game (predictably, perhaps) when "house" became a bit too aggressive. Seems they had to prevent her from going down the slide as "discipline" because she wouldn't listen to them. I set them straight. Fast. "Ummm, no. She's my little girl and she doesn't have to listen to you. She is too young for this kind of game. Move aside so she can slide." I was always the playground crusader for justice--the "we don't have to play your game if it involves paying money to go down the slide" kind of kid. Yeah, the stick-in-the-mud.

I did fuss at a boy of about 13 who had been playing rowdy and bounded onto the toddler set, but he was going to check on his little sister of about 18 months. So I said I was sorry, and felt a bit foolish, but when we got there, he was one of the ones I had to kick off.

The moment I relaxed my vigilance and talked to another mother, Doodle either escaped to the "big" side, or little girls "grounded" her. But she had a good time (and had her clothes changed and was wiped down with Baby Magic before her nap) and only my son was conscious of his mother's hyper-attentiveness (which she has imparted successfully to him, but more so. . .) You've never seen an 11-year-old so disapproving. Except me. But I'm trying to encourage him to have fun and leave the worrying to me! And maybe worry less myself in the process. Or not. . . There are definite benefits to keeping an eye one's children in public spaces.

Dissertation Defense Protocol

If I have not already communicated the fact that I can be an awfully socially awkward person in certain contexts, let me do so now. I dread the odd social gathering at someone's house, unless I know most of the people who are going to be there, and even then, it can be cause for some anxiety. We're talking non-academic, even. So this is not just the pressure of networking. Oh no. It's not being able to answer a query from a person I don't know that runs like this, "Hey, you know that cake you brought? Are we going to eat it or what? Can I cut it since you're busy breastfeeding?" with an honest, "I was waiting until everyone--namely me--was finished eating, and I'd prefer to cut it, but thank you for your offer!" instead of muttering a weak, "okay" and then brooding about it for the rest of the party. . .er. . . weekend. It's deciding not to go to the shower at all because two were scheduled for the same day and you RSVP'd to the one given for the person you knew well, but not as well. I take comfort in my committee chair's admission that there are times that he has entered a home for a gathering and proceeded straight through and right out the back door. That's so me. So what am I worried about with the upcoming dissertation defense? Refreshments. Yup, you read that correctly. Because I heard waaay back--and again today--that the defendee (person on the hot seat) usually brings snacks or breakfast or something in hopes that the committee members are too charmed by the offering--or too afraid of crumbs escaping their mouths--to ask any difficult questions. Or as a courtesy, maybe. That was all vague. Anyway, it's been months since I've had any meaningful face-to-face interaction with my committee chair department head, and while I have asked a couple of times in meaningful ways what is expected of me, he simply will not say "some koolaid and a tray of brownies." So I'm in agonies over which snack would be too childish, the politics of pastries, what about the vegetarian (and what are his reasons for being vegetarian--do they preclude icing?), would it seem like a bribe--and a weak one at that, is it rude to come empty handed? (Except for the dissertation--there is that. . .) And that is my primary source of anxiety. What snack (if any) to bring, and how my choice of snack reflects on me. Literacy-chic, you are an idiot.