5 Little Monkeys Jumping in My Head (at least)

We kicked it to Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed at Math Night at kiddo's preschool. These sort of events are like speed dating. You have under two minutes to make a connection with the parents of the favorite classmates. We agree to get together and never do. I would give up trying to hook my kid up with her friends, but I get requests daily for friends to come over.

I feel blocked about the playdate thing. First, I don't like the name. It sounds like child-version of a To-Do. Since I am trying to move beyond the To-Do List, I hear the word play date, but I really hear forced fun. We had to do forced fun in eating disorder treatment. Sing-a-longs and games after a day of pounding pillows, screaming at imaginery people who had seemingly caused us pain. I really needed rest.

Also, I have house shame. Our house is cute and small. It needs more TLC than I care to give it. In fact, it seems like an endless series of projects. Again, the To-Do list presents itself. When given a choice, I'd rather write, meditate, workout or watch a movie. Or, I'd rather rest.

But kiddo keeps asking, and there is a best friend who we think is terrific. They have been in the same class for two years.

So, I asked the parents one more tiime if we could get together. Now that our world is no longer the frozen tundra that it was only 3 weeks ago, we can go to the playground. No house pressure.

Then I asked what room the friend will be in next year. Chameleons. I felt stomach tighten; my face pinch. Chameleons? My kid is in the Platypus room. This is a crisis. My kiddo loves her friend. I felt afraid. What if she doesn't have any friends?

The other mother saw my face and said, "Well, they'll see each other on the playground." A perfectly logical response.

I heard: What a relief. I am so glad that my child is going to be free of yours.

I went over to the dark side. This time, however, I knew it was a lie. Pretty much. The lie seems pretty real, especially if it keeps repeating in my head. My next step in the old way would be to make them bad and horrible, and decide we will never hang out with them.

Sometimes, being a parent is a moment by moment re-enactment of the epoch battle of good v. evil. Faith or fear. It's my kid so it's hard to keep perspective and remember that there are no big deals. I know I must trust the professionals who put the classes together. They work hard to accomodate a child's needs with the appropriate classrooms.

More importantly, I need to trust God. My child will be given everything needed to move from success to success. If she doesn't have these challenges now, when will she have them? When she goes to college and has no support? I've seen overly protected children end up dating and marrying really sick codependents who will take care of them. Do I want this for my child? No.

For today, I know I will be given the ability to sit in my own fear and grief based on my own growing up. However, calmly sitting with my feelings seems a lot harder than believing the lie I told myself about what the other parents said.

I will call them today, and invite them to the park. I will choose to believe the truth: All is well. I'll let the monkeys in my head jump until they take a rest.