Every neighborhood has one, the house where all the kids congregate. It's where all the action is. I always thought those houses must have the "cool" mom. But since our house has become THAT house, I realize it has nothing to do with the mom. I am so far from being a "cool" mom!
We have a pool. Enough said, right? Anyone that has a pool knows what I am talking about. You don't have to advertise it, it just happens. Everyone wants to come over, all the time, every day. Besides the pool everyone uses the towels, bathroom, and even our swimsuits... Most of the time, I really don't mind. If my children are swimming, I am sitting out on the patio supervising anyway. So come on in. However, that is not always the case.
Last week we had VBS (Vacation Bible School) which means my children were gone all morning. Which also means when I pulled in the driveway at 11:45 there would be a small cluster of neighborhood kids, in their swimsuits waiting...
It makes me wonder, where are their parents? Do they know their children changed into swimsuits and are waiting for me to get home to provide them with free babysitting all afternoon? Is that their plan? Am I that much of a sucker? Do I have Lunatic painted across my forehead?
At 11:45 my kids are ready for lunch. The plan is for them to do their daily chores while I make lunch. Then when everything is done and cleaned up, we might go in the pool. Out of the five days my children attended VBS it never once happened that way. Instead it turned into screams of joy by my children upon seeing their friends all ready for swimming, clothes being torn off while running into the house to see who could change into their suits the fastest, and me left carrying art projects and ditched shoes into the house. The neighborhood kids, knowing better than to run through my house, let themselves in the driveway gate and meet my kids at the pool. Sometimes I really miss my 150lb St. Bernard all the kids were afraid of...
Lunch would be made haphazardly while listening to the pleas of the children "Can we go in YET?!?!"
I'm sure I fed more than my four and the two who were suppose to be there, the two whose parents actually pay me to watch. Hands grabbing at PBJ and watermelon slices, leaving rinds and seeds to ferment in the heat on the patio seem to come out of nowhere. Somewhere in there I would try to put sunscreen on them, at least the important parts like the nose, forehead, and shoulders.
No one seems to understand the problem. "Just send them home" "tell them they can come over after lunch" is some of the advice people throw my way. Much easier said than done....Have you ever tried to talk over 14 screaming, crying children? Yes you saw that right 14. Yesterday I had 14 kids come over. I already know the problem, the problem is I have NO CONTROL.
What little control I have tried to exert is overpowered by the other parents. I had a little girl come over one day, came right into the backyard, by herself. She climbed into the pool with my kids. She is 3 years old. She does not like getting splashed. So she cried. I took her out of the pool. I am not going to listen to a kid scream and cry over getting wet in the pool. She left and went home. Fine. I didn't invite her over anyway. Ten minutes later she returns, with her mom. "________ says you won't let her swim." "She was crying about getting splashed, so I took her out. Sorry but my kids like to play rough OUR pool." Mom picks up her three year old,and puts her back in the pool! "No more crying" she says over her shoulder as she walks away! You have GOT to be kidding me I'm thinking. I should send her a babysitting bill...
My emotions are somewhere between disgust and honor. I am disgusted that so many people just send their kids my way for me to watch under the guise of coming over to "play", and honored at the same time that the kids want to be here. Hopefully I am providing a safe place for children to play without fear, knowing that someone loves them and wants the best for them. Maybe this is my mission field. God is sending me all these little children to plant the seeds of love in. I just wish he would send me the patience to go with it!
