Mommy Playdates

t’s been years since I was on the preschool ‘playdate’ circuit, where I scheduled my kids’ social interactions, but I still remember one of the best perks, which was when I discovered a mom with whom I clicked. I’d go over to retrieve my kid, and we’d end up chatting for another hour, thrilled to find someone to talk to in complete sentences. At that age, the kids were young enough that they’d play with just about anyone, so it was easy to make most of their playdates with kids whose moms I enjoyed.

One of those preschool moms has become one of my dearest friends, so yesterday we met for a quick lunch at the Nordstrom Cafe, where we used to meet when our older boys were in preschool and our 2nd kids were in strollers. We reminisced about those ‘good old days’, remembering where Hannah (her perfect little girl) charmed the grandmother at the next table, or looking at the dent in the chair I’m sure was left by Ben (my rambunctious one). And we fretted that as our schedules (and kids’ lives) have gotten more complicated, we no longer have those long, leisurely playground outings and Burger King lunches.

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Surprise! (You’re Old)

My first-born turned 16 recently, and that was just the latest in a series of reminders of my own aging - roots that need touching up way more often than I can afford, having two children with hair on their legs, my own dear husband referring affectionately to his ‘50-something’ sweetheart (I’m 50, not 50-something!). But it wasn’t so much the fact of the birthday that made me feel old - it was the celebration.

Between starting his summer job and exhaustion from the end of the school year, David was too wiped out to plan anything but let me know he’d be okay with it if I took over (by saying discreetly, “Mom, just in case you feel like giving me a surprise party, I wouldn’t mind, and Danielle might know who I would want to invite, because you know my guy friends are clueless about this sort of thing.”) So with the help of his friend, Facebook, and a quick trip to Costco, I was ready for our house to be invaded by teenagers.

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Summer Survival- Week One

tennis-kids1

One week down, eight more to go.

This week four of the kiddos were enrolled in a little tennis camp in the neighbourhood for two hours a day. The plan was that in those two hours I would have enough time to clear out my e-mail inbox, update my Facebook status, spend a few moments on twitter, read a couple of blog posts and run an errand. The rest of my day would belong to the kiddos.

It rained this week and while I don’t mean to carry on and complain about the rain, tennis camp gets cancelled at the first detection of a dark cloud. It’s a far cry from soccer night where parents are forced to shiver on the sidelines while cheering on their little players during a torrential downpour.

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&*@# Ikea . . .

I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with Ikea, the build-it-yourself furniture superstore. One the one hand, even before the recession I appreciated a bargain, and I like to think that even if I had $5,000 to spend on an end table, I wouldn’t be so wasteful. Walking through Ikea’s beautiful but maze-like showroom and seeing the ridiculously low prices gives me the same high I got the first time I went to Loehmann’s (back in the day when it was a real outlet with real discounts; heck, I went to the original one in the Bronx, where I fought for mirror space with an entire Mah Jongg club, only to emerge triumphantly with a beautiful lined wool coat for $40). 

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Are the Biggies Ready for Baby?

One week today and my baby is going to be here. Is it just me or has this been the fastest pregnancy known to mama-kind? Usually it is only other women’s pregnancies that go quickly. I have now officially run out of time and it looks as though, among other things, I never will get around to having those pregnancy blood tests done.

 

 

I will, however, prep the Biggies on the arrival of their new sibling. I have never actually witnessed sibling jealousy in my household, particularly with regards to a new baby. Never has a nose been out of joint over a new arrival. Perhaps my kids don’t know how it feels to have an empire come crashing down since they’ve never really experienced having an empire.

 

 

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The Homely?

Yesterday, I asked my eight year old daughter to go through her bathing suits from last summer, and see which ones still fit and which ones don’t.  We had just purchased a handful of new ones for this (yes, I’m a tad early, but we live in FL., so it’s more than just being super-anal) summer, and I knew she had them all stuffed into this one tiny drawer.

Eventually, she comes downstairs with four suits and one rashguard top, that had been a favorite…and was worn over and over again.  Here is where our “who’s on first?” exchange started to blossom.

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