checkmate

The big birthday bash is coming up later tonight. Thank you for your great ideas. The party talk has got me to thinking though.

We are having a family party, not friends. My kids are the youngest of all the cousins. All of the wonderful ideas for tutus and dress-up and such just wouldn't work with the 8 to 14-year-old crowd.
The thought of little girls trying to bowl in fancy princess clothes is so adorably hilarious that I toyed with the idea of changing to a friend party instead- or simply inviting some friends along too.
Then,it hit me. My children do not have friends. I couldn't think of any friends to invite. Not a single one.
Sure, they know other kids. They see kids at church on Sunday. My son is back in pre-school. They are in a little gymnastics class at the local Y. But none of these others are friends.
We have never invited other kids over "just to play." I babysat a 4-year-old all day today. After she left, I asked my own if they had fun with her. Both gave a resounding "no."
I realized that I have spent so much effort into ensuring that my son and daughter view each other as their own best friend, that I have failed to allow them to have other friends. (I realize the brother/sister best friend gig will only last for so long, but I keep my fingers crossed.)
I called my son to me as I pondered on all of this. I asked him if he could have any friend over to play, who would it be?
His answer? My 13-year-old niece. I told him he needed to think of someone closer to his age. He then came up with another niece- several years older than him. Next, I said ok- no cousins. Who could we invite over to play next week? After a lot of thinking, he mentioned a boy from his pre school class last year. Last year!

What have I done? What should I do?

So much of how we as parents control our children is like a chess game. We move them along, prodding slowly forward, a few mishaps back, but always aiming to a final goal. The question: is the opponent the big scary world out there or is it myself? Is my sheltering of my most prized game pieces actually causing more harm than good?
I am quite sure that we are inviting someone over to play next week. And hopefully the next, and maybe the next after that. Now I just have to figure out who.

Half-way House

Instead of laughing at the slimy mushy mess of rice infant cereal that took over my kitchen, child and table today, I wanted to cry. Not cry because of the mess, but cry because of the milestone. What if this is my last baby? She is now officially not dependent on me for nourishment. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that I was the only one that could provide my baby's needs.
I realize that technically, anyone could give her formula, but I am not being technical here- I am being emotional and hormonal.
Hormonal. Now that is an odd word. Hormonal. Say it out loud a couple times. Read it over again. Hormonal. Weird right? I am not sure why, but the word reminds me of brass instruments and deli ham- not necessarily together though...... trombone, hormone. Hormel brand meats. Weird.

Anyhow...
My baby reached the 6-month mark this past week. She is half-way done with being a baby. I realized today that everything around me seems to be "half-way" there.


Six.

Months.

Old.

Where have I been for the past 6 months? Where in the world did it go?
My baby is half-way to not being a "baby" anymore. She is crawling. She is sitting. I finally started her on rice cereal this weekend. She is no longer a baby-baby. Does that make sense to anyone but me? No more sleep-smiles or milk-drunk dazes. No more snuggling against me at any given moment and no more life-dependent need for me.

Then, there is the almost-3-year-old. She is officially at the half-way mark of being a big girl. Not the wears-underwear-and-put-on-her-own-shoes big girl, -I like that part- but the goes-off-to-school type of big girl.
Let us not forget my to-smart-for-his-own-good son. He is half-way done with being a little-big kid. He is going to be 5 in a few months. Out of nowhere he started adding and subtracting numbers this week. He couldn't care less about Big Bird, kiddie pools and "ring around the rosies." He is all about Spiderman, football and waterslides. 5.

Five.

I realize some of you are past the point of having a 5-year-old. Insert your advice here.
I know, I know- I need to look at my "half-way" as the glass is half full....not half empty, blah, blah, blah.
I am going to be one of those mother's who lives vicariously through their children. Sheesh. I already do.