There are two kinds of moms in this world, the fun ones, and the not fun ones. A few weeks ago I came to the realization that I am of the latter. Let me explain.
Fun moms are the ones where it’s like freakin summer camp with them all the livelong day. They make slime, don’t care if you track wet feet into the house, have all the sugary delicious snacks, and let kids run buck wild. They also have an extreme amount of patience. This is not me, this is not what I do (this is also probably why I’m a one and done mom).
It’s not that I’m not cool, I’m very cool, I’m just not exactly an embracer of children. They’re loud and leave messes. Two things I can’t with. If it’s kid-friendly, it’s a hard pass for me.
Not fun moms, such as myself, thrive in a more rigid approach to life. It’s a rarity that my daughter’s friends want to spend the night at my house because slime has been abolished here, I don’t have copious amounts of sugar laying around, and I simply don’t like a mess in my house. I serve up Annie’s organic mac and cheese up and few kids are down for that. While there is nothing wrong with the Velveeta life, this is my truth and I must live it.
What you can do in my house is play downstairs in my fully furnished basement until I’ve had enough of kids and then you must be on your merry little way. Or you can watch a movie with some freshly popped popcorn straight from the field, but then your time is up. To be honest, if the kids are getting along, I don’t interfere that much and I feel like that’s a huge bonus for all parties. While I don’t mind a sleepover every now and then, they make for a grumpy kid the next day and no one wants that. Plus, I don’t let kids stay up until two because as stated above, I am not fun. Just like the infamous book states, “go the eff to sleep.”
I feel for my kid because as of right now, we are not the fun house where everyone wants to hang. While at first, I was a little salty about my daughter’s friends thinking my house sucks, I’ve grown to be okay with it because I know come high school they’ll be spending all their free time here “borrowing” my makeup, learning to walk in five-inch heels, and thinking they can sneak my booze. It’s the circle of life.
