Whenever I’m talking about having children or being a parent in any kind of philosophical way, I will always inevitably reach for the phrase “We all have our own crosses to bear.” And what I mean by that is that being a parent is incredibly difficult for all of us, but in our own distinct ways.
One of the things I find most tiresome about having children is the social aspect – but specifically that thing when your child really likes another child and you reckon the feeling is vaguely mutual, but you have to deal with a parent who is either totally disorganised or doesn’t like you, or doesn’t want the children to play together, or knows that its child isn’t into your child but can’t find the balls to tell you, or over-schedules the child so it is next available in 9 weeks’ time for 35 minutes only or just hates playdates but won’t say.
So I get the nagging from the child for a playdate, contact the parent, wait, wait, wait, then either get a knock back or worse, a knock-back without suggestions for other dates (translation: “this is never going to happen, bitch“) or, worse – just nothing.
“So when is X coming round to play?” says my tiny, hopeful, innocent child. And I have to fudge it or try harder with the bloody parent or make excuses or whatever.
It’s almost worse if I am eventually successful, because as soon as the child has gone home, mine says “When is X coming to play again,” and the thought of having to go through the whole ghastly rigmarole all over again makes me very badly want to flee to a dark room for an hour.
A very small silver lining about that whole manner of situation is that eventually you reach a point where your child gives up and moves on from the obsession and you can gratefully drop the whole toxic mess. And the massive relief doesn’t make the whole thing remotely worth it, as it is so stressful and emotional and frustrating and sad. But it is a very small, 2% upside. A bit like the good thing about having a nightmare being waking-up and realising that it was only a nightmare.
That’s happened to me a few times recently, and it’s just so lovely to strike those people from your consciousness. It’s like waking up after three weeks of cold, wet rain to a gorgeous sunny day.
It’s so magical to be able to say “Okay, forget it”, to allow yourself to stop going round and round in your head wondering why the hell they can’t just bung their kid round yours for two hours? I can’t say I didn’t try with these people. I tried and tried and got nothing back.
I’m thinking about this now because I passed a mother on the street the other day who was just the type of person I’m talking about. She’s not a bad person, I don’t hate her, but I tried and tried so hard because she was local and one of my children liked her child. But the whole relationship was like heaving a massive sack of misshapen concrete objects up a really slippery muddy hill in the rain.
But then, thank god, my child lost interest. And so I could let go.
So the other day when I saw her (no, she doesn’t read The Spike), instead of stopping and doing that torturous “Hi how are you? How are they? How was your holiday?” like-me, like-me, like-me bullshit I just lifted a hand, smiled and went “Hey!” and moved swiftly on – into the distance, into the light, into the rest of my life.
It’s totally empowering and freeing, isn’t it? Interestingly, the next stage is actually quite freeing too, although it takes a bit of getting used to: that’s when you never actually meet the parent(s) of your child’s friends when they’re at senior school. I didn’t really compute this before my two went but you can easily go an entire seven years (if they stay on into Sixth Form) without having a scooby as to who the hell their parents are …as in, you couldn’t pick them up in a line up never mind know anything about them. In a way it’s best this way – you can decide whether you like the child enough to forge a relationship over the years that they visit your house to eat carbs and snigger at Top Gear rather than being influenced by godawful parents and their power play. I know teenagers get a bad rap these days but truly, they’re actually quite straightforward and mostly lovely. And you never have to meet the parents…
Agree. My 13 yo organises all her own playdates now, including often getting the bus to and from them mostly. If it’s a sleepover, I’ll check in with the parent first, but otherwise generally have zero contact with my daughter’s friend’s mum/dad. It takes some getting used to but ultimately is incredibly liberating 😌
Well if the prospect of your husband in a vest won’t get them to come around, I’m all out of answers…….
It is realising these sorts of social interactions are the norm for parents that makes me never ever want to have kids.
It certainly comes high on my list of reasons why I am delighted I never had kids ….
My youngest finished primary school this year and I am ecstatic! No more of this bull shit. After 11 years of it I’ve become quite hard nosed but I’m still delighted it’s over. Also, I agree completely with Rosemary and the Giles in a vest thing, what is wrong with these women !
I’d love to reply indignantly that Giles actually works v hard and doesn’t just hang about the house all day long in his vest but… thing is… he does…
I’m just starting this with my 4 year old – it’s really difficult isn’t it especially when I have a 5 month old and really don’t want anymore kids messing up the house and driving me mad.
I think the sad thing is you know how awesome your kids are and you get a bit cross when others don’t see it / want to see it cause of some stupid preconceived idea.
My son is a bit of a mad lunatic with a heart of gold and so generous but as he started school at just 4 he struggled to adjust and got a bit of a naughty label – school year nearly over and nearly 5 he is very different but can’t help think some parents think they don’t want their kid to be friends with a naughty kid (if having a mind of your own is considered naughty *eye roll emoji)
There is one mum who’s husband works at my company but is quite junior to me who 100% blanks me – what you gonna do eh…
Thank you so much for this Esther. Fortunately my daughter is now a teen, but in had years of failing to crack the international school playdate/sleepover thing. I endured two types of parents, both ghastly:
1. The rich ones who are so busy and overscheduled with their large hearty families (we call them Labrador Families, as they are always blonde, sociable and a bit stupid) that it is always passive aggressively implied that would be far, far easier for you always to commute to their house for play dates. Being in Tokyo, the journey over could take an hour standing up on the metro. At the door, there is no suggestion that you might come in for a little bit for a cup of tea and adult human conversation in the kitchen. You are just a convenient human speck to them, a provider of something to entertain their child. One mother even had the gall to call up one afternoon to see if I could drop off my daughter for a few hours to play with/occupy her special needs son so she “could get on with preparing for a dinner party” (a dinner for which we would never, ever make the cut).
2. The chippy ones who only ever want you to host the play dates and sleepovers and never, ever reciprocate. I had one non-working mother who after a year of play dates at our place weakly offered “I would say come around to mine, but our cleaner hasn’t been yet this week so the place is a mess”. I don’t have a cleaner so I told her mine hadn’t been around, well, ever. She still didn’t budge. Her three children continued to trash my place.
I do not miss those years at all. The most stressful thing about parenting is the sharp loneliness, which for extroverts can be physically painful. The second most stressful thing is having to grit your teeth socialize/interact (for the sake of your children) with other parents who are not very nice people.
Love that …bet your kids are great though
You’re BRILLIANT! 🤣
I completely relate to this. My child had a friendship with a girl who’s mother was so over protective any playdate was torturous. She would bring a flask of green tea for her child (aged 8) as she didn’t trust me not to give her anything she wasn’t allowed at home… She would also hover over them joining in with their craft crap.. Anyway, she eventually went completely crazy over the guest list at MY daughters birthday party. After her husband apologised for her behaviour we parted ways…I saw her after two years, in town last week, as she stopped to say hello I smiled, said Hi and walked on… It felt so good..
Lorna I have to know on what basis she went crazy over the guest list at YOUR party?
Goodness… She really didn’t like another of the girls invited. She sent me page upon page of furious rants detailing how her child had always been a good friend to mine and how we ( my child and I) were betraying her and her daughter!!! It ended quite dramatically in her saying that this action would send her child to a psychiatrist for trauma.. needless to say, she didn’t attend the party and we all had a fabulous time!
What an ABSOLUTE nutter
This happened to me and my daughter. I thought I was the only one! She’s a persistent bugger on some things, so the whole awkwardness rather dragged on. I recently told her, in a gentle, age appropriate way, that it doesn’t seem like play dates with X are going to happen and I’m not going to keep trying on her behalf. When she asked why, I just said they’re very busy. I didn’t say, ‘cos the other mummy isn’t helping’ etc
Sublime summary……nailed it!
Oh I love this – I don’t think I’m particularly adept at play date organisation because I only do the school run once a week, hence guilt… also, where’s the etiquette/ rule book on when you do a return play date? Should you be aiming for like a play date a week or something? A month? WHO KNOWS THIS STUFF? I think ‘how to navigate the play date’ should be a life advice column. See also, sleepovers.
Goodness, I so agree with this. The worst is when the other parent doesn’t reply for ages and you’re stuck in a kind of limbo waiting for the knock-back you know is on the way, and you want to say to them, “look, I don’t know you or your child and couldn’t personally give a damn about either of you, so please don’t feel you have to let *me* down gently, but I do care about my child and would rather like to be able to let *him* down gently, rather than having him ask hopefully every day whether I’ve arranged a playdate yet, so just answer the fucking email I sent you, yes or no, you thoughtless bitch”.
(Actually I think this is generally true for social engagements. I hate it when you invite people to something and someone doesn’t RSVP, then when you chase them up they say, “oh, I’m so hoping I can come, just trying to work things out with babysitters, will let you know etc etc”. JUST SAY NO, FFS! Honestly, I don’t care if you come or not, you barely scraped an invitation, I just need to know numbers. Jesus Christ.)
OMG this sums up my daughter and her old best friend. The mother messages me for a play date, I reply with options and then nothing for months. She’s a lovely lady but so bloody disorganised, it’s a relief my daughter or even hers has moved on. I can’t wait till she’s got a phone and can sort it all herself.
I also very much relate. It still astounds me though, the utter fucking RUDENESS of some people! Perhaps I am just some sort of naive simpleton, but I have always thought it was just basic good manners to reciprocate any invitation one is lucky enough to receive. Even if my child isn’t particularly into the other kid for whatever reason, we always ALWAYS invite back to our house for a return play date. Such play dates have been fine too – little-ish kids pretty much always find something to play together to pass the time amicably. I dunno, must be my very old fashioned upbringing or something, but what the hell has happened to people that they can’t just suck it up, be polite and set their own kids an example of how to behave properly?!! Arrrgghhh!
I’m very conscious of reciprocating play date invites. But when the mum doesn’t reply or commit to a play date back at my house I don’t know how to deal with it. Do I keep asking? Do I shrug and move on? It stresses me that I haven’t returned the play date on my turf and hate it when they pile up. Total stress!!
God all of this rings so many bells from when I had small kids. Bollox to the hard faces out there…keep walking into the light x
When my boys were small and we lived in Hong Kong, I used to hate the play date thing for all the reasons mentioned above. Luckily they were 17 months apart and loved each others company so there wasn’t much play dating to arrange (thank God)
Grandma’s have the same problem… I collect from school.. she comes out with her sad face I ask ‘what’s the matter darling … ‘no one would play with me’ or ‘I was playing this game and Sophia came and she took my friends away to play her game’…it breaks me heart…. she’s so quiet and undemanding.
I want to kill all of them with my hammer.
Nana with a Hammer, love it.
Love that last paragraph.
The absolute worst though is when your child begs for a playdate, you then set it up and then your darling child refuses point blank to even talk to their guest and you end up having to do Hama beads for hours with a strange child when you were hoping for 20 minutes with a cup of tea.
Sooo good to read this. Thankfully we are near the end of the playdate era (I even hate the word playdate – so contrived). The awkwardness of being friendly towards some parents and their children just took more energy than I was prepared to muster for people I have little interest in (and I’m not an arrogant bitch, I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual, real friendship doesn’t need effort).
The ultimate horror for me in the playground which still haunts me (and my timeline) to this VERY day is receiving (and accepting – gah – obviously having a charitable day) facebook friend requests from people who I have no desire to see the inner workings of their life. You know the type, the endlessesly perfect pictures, the homemade chicken nuggets and the neat wooden toys….when we all know that their kid eats boogers just like yours, well mine, yours probably don’t but you know what I mean….lol
Oh couldn’t agree more re F/B.
I think no.. I’m not interested in your life atall. so I delete request …
and anyone who comments re my odd ‘fuck’. (One said 😁oooo potty mouth, another said I should buy a new keyboard minus The F U C k keys) … – honestly I ask you!!! So they’re blocked obv.
I have a potty mouth too…..yet interestingly, when I see children from my daughter’s year outside senior school they say a lot of swear words and my daughter doesn’t swear at all. I’m not fucking sure why to be honest…..lol
😂😂😂😂😂
Oh, the joy of leaving those days behind. What about the birthday parties and the landfill crap in the goody bags, and having to buy more crapola when it’s your turn?
Some entitled parents are just not worth it, as you are finding out – but the lovely ones will be your friends for life. As for Giles in a vest.. what time do you want us?
Our play-date policy is: (almost) never initiate; (b) if invited, ask child if they want to go, if yes, respond immediately with a yes thanks; (c) reciprocate any play-dates attended. If the children are climbing up the walls on a Sunday afternoon I may text the neighbours to see if they have any spare children we can borrow, but anything else just seems like hard work. Birthday parties are my worst fear and deepest dread… how have they become a thing?
Read my post re birthday parties… blinking nightmare it was all the girls or none. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.
I love The Spike too .. and I’m ancient
Theres nothing as strange as folk. Is that Chaucer??? I have 3 teenagers now and could write a book about all the weirdo parents Ive encountered but I agree with above its bloody RUDE not to reply to an invite even if you are in the middle of a nervous breakdown which she could be? She’s lucky to be invited don’t these parents want some free childcare? Mine are all teenagers now and they do their own thing which is liberating and scary and Ive made some lovely friends through my kids but there are still weirdos. The other day my youngest was invited by an apparently wealthy family on a two week villa holiday in Greece. I was thrilled for my daughter until I was asked by text by the mum who Ive never met (but been told about how fabulous, rich, thin and glamourous she is by my daughter) for a massive contribution towards the said villa. I didn’t mind paying for flights/spending money etc. Hasten to say my husband and me discussed ad nauseam and said no on principle. Im not wealthy but have been generous a few times taking my kids friends on holidays and would not behave like this. Perhaps thats why Im not wealthy? I really hope she does’nt subscribe to this blog X
she doesn’t sound like a Spiker to me. asking for a contribution to the villa is extremely weird
I remember being invited by a school friend to join her family holiday when I was in my early teens. A week after we returned she gave me an invoice typed up by her father my share of the accommodation, but also the rental car, plus my split of every breakfast, lunch, dinner, drink, ice cream etc etc. Her parents had obviously been keeping a detailed list of every single thing I’d had over the entire week. Horrendous. They were that sort of horrible academic aspiring middle/upper family. You know the sort.
WHAT?!?!? This is insane!
this is very reassuring that I made the right decision saying NO as my daughter was understandably fed up not to be going, they sound bloody nuts!!!
It was much easier in my day (Im 66 and love The Spike by the way ) … knock on the neighbours door – after biking or walking there ….we lived in the rural paradise of Shropshire Can you come out to play ?
My Mum blew a whistle when it was time for us to go into eat !!
My kids now in their late 30’s say that sounded so easy Mum
yes. the problem is that these days *everyone* is so uptight about letting their kids out of sight, so even if you are a relaxed parent, the kids go outside… and there’s no-one else to play with. doesn’t help that the weather is so bad most of the year you just get fewer kids roaming about outdoors generally.
They didn’t do play dates when mine were little. They’re 40+ now.
But this happened … every girl in the class was invited to Rebecca’s part except my Lulu. Heartbroken doesn’t begin to explain..
She was 8
SO – party was on a Sunday…Monday back in school…when they would all be chatting about the fucking party.
I took my girls out of school to a theme park for the day….. I just couldn’t bear her to be left out and sad again.
Tuesday no one mentioned the party that ship had sailed..but everyone wanted to know about Lulu’s day out!
Footnote … lulus happily married demanding career three kids, Rebecca not so!
Yep I totally get that – I did go through the nightmare of play dates with my kids – we still lived in the sticks and some of the kids who were invited out were also totally underdressed for our a) freezing cold farmhouse b) scared of the animals as they had never encountered and I felt bad when I had to return them home and having to explain that yes they did see a pig mating in the field and yes he did have a willy like a corkscrew !! Think they learnt the facts of life quite quickly
This all sounds like the most wonderful episode of Motherland … in a good way. I never realised how complicated parenthood/childhood is nowadays.
Ohhhh Esther… And Spikers…. I am sat here about to get ready for work and thought I would treat myself to catching up with the new posts. Now I am howling and snotty crying at the memory of two girls who I considered best friends and were invited to my house, neither of which turned up. No excuses or attempt to explain. I lived in a tiny village and at 10 this was the first time I had invited anyone round. My lovely mum, who was also devastated on my behalf let me go into the nearest town on the bus by myself as a treat instead. I think I have just cracked the cause of my ‘don’t expect too much from anyone else’ and more self-sufficient attitude than my sibling who has a massive social circle . Well that’s floored me! Not knowingly thought about those girls, though I remember their names and faces, in the last 30 years.
Ooh Jules …. Feeling weepy just reading that.
God how I hated being a child; it all seemed such inexplicable misery. Memories of my friend S, who always said yes when invited to go to London with me for the day, and NEVER EVER came. Always an excuse, last minute: she was ill, her sister was ill … I bet even the fucking guinea pigs were ill one day. Obviously I was not allowed to go on my own. Eventually my nervous, neurotic mother, massively protective of her only child, had had enough and let me go all by myself. But really. Just say you don’t want to go, now or ever! Oddly she would come round happily just to the house.
When I wasn’t invited to a birthday party and the rest of the class were, my mum phoned up the girl’s mum and gave her what for. The mother was made to feel about 1 foot fall by my FURIOUS mother.
I aspire to be that mum.
I obviously mean that I aspire to me MY MUM. Not the mean mother who left out a six year old (ie six year old me).
In a strange coda to the story, I bumped into the girl whose party it was outside a school recently. She had obviously had work done and it looked awful.
😂😂😂😂😂 looked awful
Thanks Sophie. Such an odd thing for your friend to persistently scupper your trip to London. As you rightly say, just say that you don’t want to go. Despite the responsibility of adulthood, it is far less complicated isn’t it?
God, I find this oddly comforting. I’ve spent the last five years in a similar social limbo, trying to figure out if there is something wrong with me, or with my house, or with my children. Do I smell? Is my house a tip? Are my children too weird? Aren’t all children a bit weird? It’s comforting to think it might just be them, not me. Maybe I’m OK after all.
Ya know something… I get you and it is a load of bullshit, and it all seems like yesterday for me, but my gorgeous boy is about to leave home for Uni and right now I’d do anything to turn the clock back & do it all again. Nothing prepares you for that crushing feeling of the imminent moving on that uni brings. I’ve woken every night at 4am in floods of tears & going through mental lists of what I’ve taught him and what I haven’t. It’s awful, make the most of every second.