Birthday Hangover
We went to a birthday party on Sunday. It was at a public park right by a playground. Most guests were long-time friends or family of the birthday boy who was turning five. A few were friends from school. The boy’s grandfather was competing with his long-time friend: Who can jump the longest from the swing. Sounds like something eight year olds should be doing. So the people were having fun.
A school mom and I talked about how to handle a young child’s hitting. She said that her not being with her child 24/7 makes it difficult for her to see what her child is up to most of the day. I mentioned that while my children don’t hit, they do bite. And this is a recent phenomenon which is my fault because I let it escalate. Then again, I don’t put one child’s arm between another child’s teeth. The mom didn’t like my idea of justice: If you’re going to take my kid’s toy, be sure you know that you’re going to be bit!
Last year, the birthday boy received a kid motorcycle (like a Power Wheels toy). It has a seat for one, but two children can ride in it if the child in the back sits on the tire guard. The parents of the birthday boy brought it to the park, and the little children took turns riding on it. I told Ty that he should only ride on the driver’s seat and let no one ride with him – as it’s not designed to hold two people. He chased the motorcycle up and down the park as the boy let his other friends ride with him. One time, we watched three children on the thing. There was too much weight on the back tires, so the front tire kept flying off the ground. About an hour later, I caught him riding in the back. I quickly told him to get off and reminded him to ride only on the driver’s seat by himself. There were a few adults who commented, “But he’s having fun. He’s not doing anything wrong.” He disobeyed his mother. That’s wrong enough. Besides, if anyone is going to leave that party with a contusion or premature tooth loss, it will not be my child.
We sang “Happy Birthday” and ate ice cream cake. The boys didn’t like that the cake was so hard. I cut Kyle’s cake into small pieces, but he cried, “Mommy, don’t break it!”
The boy opened his presents. Everything was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: TMNT dressed as pirates, TMNT dressed as knights, TMNT battling bloody zombies. Not one hula hoop. Not one jigsaw puzzle. Not one pogo stick. Good thing, too. Because my children would have bit the boy for getting a coveted present such as a jigsaw puzzle.
So we’ve been spending these past few days de-”socializing” our children and helping them unlearn what they’ve learned while “socializing” with preschoolers.
