Monday, May 9, 2011

We Went to a Party. And it Went Precisely as You'd Think.

Before we'd even arrived in Texas, I'd begun the process of pumping myself up for increased social interaction; for the sake of my children, I'd need to make friends and acquaintances. I mean, it's not like I especially WANTED to do this. I'd already tried presenting the argument that my very presence in the social realm would likely do the boys more harm than good, but my husband was not buying that shit. Plus the boys just kind of blinked at me and were all, playground? So I was all WELL FINE THEN BUT YOU'RE IN FOR A SURPRISE. And then they were all hyper and shriek-y and chanting SUR-PRISE! SUR-PRISE! and then one of them wrapped both arms around my thigh and said, YOU'RE THE BEST MOM EVER!



Kids, man. They're not so perceptive at times.

Anyway, since we've settled in, I've been making a concerted effort is all I'm saying. And in all seriousness, I really thought it would help with the kids' transition. They're missing NY and my mom hardcore, so, the way I see it, having fun is kind of like a bribe that I'm hoping suggests, SEE? TEXAS IS WAY MORE FUN THAN GRANDMA! So far, we've gone to the park a few times (Texas! Has parks! That you don't have to pay for! To get in! Like they have in New York!) And I've even met several (okay, like three...that's a lot, right?) of my neighbors. So, we're out there! Interacting! Loving life! And, you know, sweating a bit. Because there's definitely a little bit of the All Summer in a Day vibe going on, too, stuffing in as much outside activity as I can before the temperatures reach HELLFIRE.

One friend (whom I know through Husband) has been especially awesome, and even invited us to a friend's neighbor's son's birthday party. (Catch all that? I think it's called a party that you've been THREE TIMES REMOVED from the invite list.)

Me: Ahh, but...like, will they mind? That I'm a stranger?

Her: Oh, no. Not at all.

Me: [Nervous farts.] Ehhh....okayyy then.

So, suppressing every firing electron in my brain that screamed ABORT! ABORT!, we go to this party that I've been invited to only indirectly, and I decide to just try to act like I've not crashed the thing. The boys promptly make themselves at home, and I introduce myself to the homeowner after he eyeballed me suspiciously on the stairway. In a nice way, of course. (Texans are friendly, you see.) Plus One was happy enough to watch the older kids play Mario Brothers, so he settled in on the couch and remained there so motionless and captivated, that I occasionally went over and poked him to verify life. T9, on the other hand, presented more of a challenge, finding stray toys and using them for mortal combat.

Scene

Me: [Crouching on the floor, picking up stray pizza from dinner.] Whatchay got there, kiddo? Are those SWORDS, buddy?

T9: [With a sudden furrowed brow and squatting, combative stance.] YETS. SOHD.

Me: Play nice with those, okay?

T9: Ohhh-tayyy. [Easing posture, and approaching me, sword aimed at my eyeball.] Saahhey, Mommy. Saahhey. Cut you, Mommy. Cut you.

Then? Then my cute, little toddler mock-sliced my scalp clear off my head. And then he cackled. I went to grab the swords, but he gave me a Macauley-Culkin-O face and ran off. So there I was, dashing after my cackling ancient-weapon-yielding child through a stranger's home while a young boy opened presents in the corner, and all the while whisper shouting that he STOPIT! STOPIT T9! GETOVERHERE! ISAIDSTOPIT!

After a brief struggle for the sword, I brushed off and plopped it ceremoniously in a fish tank. I set T9 up with a hand-held electronic-looking gadget (toddler Kryptonite) and went off in search of water. (Okay, vodka.) I found my friend chatting with a group of women, and they greeted me warmly. Nervous that the boy would sense my distraction and dig up a machete, my dialogue was mainly filled with "Uh-huh!" and "Ohh, yeah" and laughter that likely followed something quite unfunny. (I'm pretty sure they thought I was on drugs.) After one of them changed the topic, they began gushing over my cute boys (yes! the one who just tried to kill you with plastic! aren't they TOO MUCH at this age?!) and started asking about the move, about the house, and about how the kids were adjusting to their fine state. I'd been worried initially about Plus One, I explained, but once we got down here, T9 turned out to be the greater challenge.

Me: He's just been acting out a lot more, you know?

Them: Oh, suuuure. Those boys process their emotions---

*CRASH*

Me: [Resisting the urge to turn toward the sound, as everyone else runs to the scene.]

T9: [Shouting dramatically from the scene of the crime.] OHHH NOOO! BOH-KIN, MOMMY. FALL DOWN! GROUND!

GUYS. On motherloving CUE, the boy started trashing the place. First it was a vase of flowers that was scattered about the floor. Next came the candlestick, which did not survive the fracas. Third was like the biggest, most intimidating boy in the place, whom T9 decided to tackle with wild abandon. Fortunately for T9, the boy was a lover and not a fighter. Or, more of a shrugger, I suppose, as he simply nudged the toddler off him so as not to disturb his video-gaming.

DEEP. BREATH.

This all happened Saturday night. Yesterday? On Mother's Day? I celebrated by keeping the family quarantined to the house.

But the very fact that *I* wasn't the one breaking the vase, the candlestick, and the oversized young boy? I think I'm gong to call that progress.

17 comments:

  1. I wrote a long comment and the internets killed it.

    I hear you. Since we've moved each outing is exhausting and so...forced. We left family and friends that we've had forever, so this whole fitting in with a new crowd thing feels like it just takes so much energy. Add to that the fact that my 5 year old's behavior has currently gone from questionable to insane, it's actually scary to go anywhere and help her make friends because I'm so uncertain as to what she's going to do and say. The other day she kicked a ball HARD inside someone's house and it flew off the fire place and nailed another child. I'm sure we'll be asked back to their house.

    We seriously need to become Texas friends. We could lay on the couch shrugging our shoulders at each other while our children act out their displeasure of having moved in front of us. My daughter can kick a ball at your kids head and your kid can faux stab mine.

    Also, it's starting to get hot and it's only May 9th. I'm scared.

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  2. I sent my college bff a text message yesterday telling her my kids were assholes. And we haven't even MOVED or anything. Maybe just get them real swords. That'll teach them.

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  3. I'm gonna be real evil here.

    Leftover cat tranks + children = sane mommy at the next party!

    (ok, so I'm not REALLY suggesting you give your children animal tranqulizers. Benedryl works just as well.)

    LOL!

    Happy (belated) mother's day.

    Aye,
    Scratch

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  4. ya know....vodka is the russian word for water. Just sayin.

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  5. When I was little I had the charming little habit of removing all of my clothing whenever we left the house. I would get naked at dinner parties, amusement parks, the shopping mall. I turned out *okay* and my mom never died of embarrassment.

    Our blogs would be significantly less entertaining if we were not social awkward.

    Epic tales of a Professional freakshow in heels

    http://freakshowinheals.blogspot.com/

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  6. I'm going to move to Texas just to be with you.

    What you've done with those pictures in the day in the life that is me.

    I am in the corner, hair pulled up, standing alone, much like my hair.

    And, over there FAR away from me, is the group of happy women so happy to know each other.

    WHUCK?

    So, yeah. I do love you. A lot.

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  7. I think it was this weekend...my boys morphed into Satan and Satan's more evil sidekick (think Tattoo...same accent, less fantasy) this Saturday. I'm pretty sure the Mayans were pretty much right only the end of the world will be caused by my offspring.

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  8. Thank God I had two shy girls who would cling to me at parties! They turned social when they went to school.

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  9. Oy. I can't even make friends in my own hometown where I am surrounded by people who are exactly like me. I can't even imagine how I would fare in Texas. Good luck, my friend.

    Also— love the new site design!

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  10. Wow, I seriously could have written that same story just a few months ago. New state, forced awkward social situations, 2 young and destructive sons...
    Now whenever I go to birthday parties, I just slip a $20 on the kitchen counter as we slink shamefully out the back door.

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  11. I swear you and my wife were seperated at birth.

    You're like the Wonder Twins of OCD.

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  12. Yeah, that sounds about right.

    It could definitely be worse, though. They didn't smash the birthday kid's cake or anything, did they? If not, WELL PLAYED, mom. You are the bomb.

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  13. I HATE taking my children to other people's houses (*especially* in the "polite" context), I always feel like I just unleashed two little horror tornadoes into what was previously a well kept domicile. Personally I gave up trying to make our house look decent a long ass time ago. Anything breakable is banned and the toys pretty much over ride every room.

    Home sweet Kevlar-covered home.

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  14. I'll bet he slept like a little angel on the ride home too.

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  15. yeah. i hate interacting with people. i can't IMAGINE if i was expected to throw CHILDREN into the mix. it would be horrifying.

    i mean, it's already pretty bad with just the cats and hermit crabs. one of which has been naked for days.

    i know. i'm an unfit hermit crab mother.

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  16. You make me laugh more than would be considered normal.

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  17. ya know....vodka is the russian word for water. Just sayin.

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