Usually this evening is a difficult one for me. I do not look forward to it at all. The last 6 years I've had to take all three kids with us. That's not the problem because many people bring their kids. The kids run around and since they are at school they know they can't leave the grounds and generally behave. The principal is usually walking around room-to-room and no one wants to get caught....I mean no one wants to disappoint anyone by breaking school rules so everyone just plays and runs around.
There are two session times that run back to back. With 3 kids we were spread out over both meetings. With one less parent than kid, one has to master the art of sneaking out early, not causing a disruptance and then stealthily slip into the next class and blend in. The goal is to appear as if you were there the entire time. It takes you right back to high school and once again you are facing the wrath of an annoyed teacher and smirking friends. Only this time you are a few pounds heavier and the furniture is a helluva lot smaller.
As if this joy isn't enough for me I have the added bonus of knowing at any minute all hell could break lose with one or both of my girls having a colossal meltdown. The stupid thing doesn't start until 6:30 at night; this after a full day of school. This does not coincide well with our regular ight time rituals. We are more ritualistic than the Nazi Party when comes to bed times. Tessi 7:30, Connor 8:00 and Teddy 9:00. this for my sanity as well as theirs. My kids are tired and on their (and everyone else's) last nerve. Waiting patiently for 8:00 to come so we can leave is not their strong suit. Alright, I know. I could have just ended that last sentence at patiently and it would have been correct.
At last year's soiree Tessi burst into tears around 7:30 and tracked me down to Teddy's room and then had to sit on my lap sniffling for the last 30 minutes. To give you an idea of how well known my kids are, I got compliments in that class about how well Tessi held it together. She, ah...isn't known for "pressing through the pain" Finish the evening with an 18 minute drive home and if we only have 3 fights we call it a Christmas Miracle. It's just not a pleasant way to spend and evening. Personally 2 or 3 days before I start trying to find people with colds so I can give them a big hug and hopefully come down with a nice plague and have to skip it. 6 years and counting and so far no luck.
This year though...Well, I think it really was a late Christmas Miracle. I've been a stay at home mother for 12 1/2 years. Obviously I've learned to dramatically lower my standards over what actually constitutes a miracle.
We started off the evening down a child. Teddy is at high school so this year we only have have to attend 2 classes. Tessi is in the infant section (K-2) and her class went first. Connor's class, being the primary section (3-6) went second. This meant that both of us could go into the same conference at the same time.
My neighbor and new friend agreed to watch my girls so I didn't have to drag them along. That's right. this year they did ot even come with us! They happily walked to her house excited about an evening of Skylanders, TV and jumping like hell on the trampoline. They had a bonus for the night too as Himself would not even entertain the idea of making an appearance. Teddy is FAR too evolved to be watched by a friend of mine, even if it means nuggets for dinner. No, no, no. Instead he stayed home pondering his life and wondering how the hell he can get money without actually working for it. I'm sure he spent the bulk of the evening watching shows I don't approve of and in the process kept Damn Dog company. She gets lonely during the day sometimes so I hate for her be alone at night too.
This left Ted and I alone chatting over a bag of chips and two sodas while we waited for the conferences to start. I watched other parents leading their kids around and refereeing their fights. Funny, it really isnt that bad when its not your kids raising hell. It didnt bother me in the least to see or hear some other kid chucking a tanty. That's Aussie speak for having a tangrum, by the way. Slowly I am being assimilated. (Warning!!!! Geek reference!) Ted and I were able to sit through both conferences in their entirety...sitting together. I sat and looked out the window and saw kids running around, some chasing other kids....some being chased by parents. At one point I heard a tiny muffled shriek of rage and all I could think was, "Wow...somebody has a real problem. Oh well! It's not me!"
Hell, I didn't even get guilted into being a class parent for either of the girls classes!
The gods of fate were surely smiling upon us last night for sure.
I'm calling that a dinner date. In fact, I'll go one further. I will call that a GREAT dinner date. Judge all you want. When you are married with kids and 8000 miles away from family who have to think your kids are adorable and a joy to be around you take whatever alone time you can get. Sure my 21 year old self is lighting another cigarette and chugging her Sloe Gin Fizz with a whiskey side to ease the pain of knowing what's in future for her. But my 42 year old self is reaching over and slapping her and saying, "Are you nuts?! Do you have any idea how bad this could have all gone?! Girl, you have it good"
Yes, I have to say I do.
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