There’s a lot of levels of self-delusion. I think it’s pretty much necessary for life. One that I am utterly, completely entirely over is other parents. Recently I had someone email me whose child went to school with Franny at her old school, who also works ten-hour days and lives two cities away. Invariably the exchange goes like this.
Other Parent: HI! REMEMBER US?
Me: Uhh…yeah. sigh
Other Parent: Brunhilde really misses Franny! We’d love to set up a PLAYDATE really, really soon!
Me: Okay, I guess so. How about Saturday?
Other Parent: Brunhilde has spelunking that day!
Me: Okay, Sunday, then?
Other Parent: Krav maga!
Me: All day?
Other Parent: Well, it is a special camp, and…
Me: Okay, shut up.
Other Parent: How about next weekend??
Me: Yeah, she’s at her dad’s.
Other Parent: Oh, what’s that schedule again?
Me: First and third weekend, except when he ditches her at my mother’s house, and oh, summer, let me email you the PDF diagram…
Other Parent: Err…
Me: How about November 16th?
Other Parent: We’re in Malaysia then.
Me: WELL? WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU THEN?
Other Parent: We’ll get back to you.
Me: Mmmhmm.
This time I am going to cut it off at the pass. I am tired of these email exchanges. If it was convenient to hang out, we would do it. You are experiencing some kind of weird nostalgia through your child. This time I will say, Thanks, but no.
I think it is the mother’s equivalent of “Let’s do lunch”. And don’t EVEN get me started on self-delusion today.
Story of my life, except I just ignore the invites. Either he’s with his dad on the weekends, or he’s with me but I don’t wanna.
Sorry, Can’t make the fifth of never.. that’s ‘Cinco de nada’ very important holiday for my people.
I think the key word here is schedule. These parents are trying to fit something into a gap they see in their over-scheduled children’s lives. Then they can whine/brag about their busy lives with soccer, piano, scouts, bake sales, birthday parties and play-dates. I am nostalgic for the day when everyone just told their kids they were getting on their last nerve, get outside and play. Play-date. I just hate that word.
Firstly, lulz for “cinco de nada”, JB.
Secondly, I feel so vindicated now knowing that hell IS other parents, just as I suspected.
This “so BUSY!” shit happens to the childless as well. I have the single lady-friends that contact me because they rilly, rilly want to hang, but then, they’s SO BUSY! And it’s not just yoga anymore, it’s yoga-teacher-training-classes.