Old School

After tonight, I've come to a conclusion. I'm an old school kind of mom.

Not old school like lets move into a barn, have our own small farm that we live off, abandon electronics and weave our own cloth, old school, but relative old school. Old school in the context of my generation of moms.

I simply don't enjoy playing the game the way everyone else does.

We went to a birthday party tonight, the four kids and I. Yeah, right there I went wrong. Somehow I forgot to put on my cape for this one. I just couldn't seem to psych up the right mental version of mom to pull this puppy off.

In reality, it was a great party. It was smooth. The thing moved along at a good pace and the kids were kept busy but entertained pretty much the entire time. Even during the eating, the kids did great. I'd say all around good behavior.

That said, there were things about my own kids behavior that made me cringe, want to jump up and yell, to go all control freak on everyone. But that was me. In context, my kids were as well behaved as anyone elses.

Tonight's party was at one of those pizza and game places. Not a slimy one, but one of the high end ones.

Confession time.

I hate, loathe, despise, abhor, could live the rest of my life without ever entering another one of those kinds of places. But again. That is me.

And this is where I came to the conclusion that I'm old school. I don't like these kinds of places. I really, really don't.

Maybe it was my own childhood. We just didn't do that sort of stuff. We didn't go to those kinds of places. I wasn't a popular kid so I didn't go to a lot of parties. But it was also back in the day. Birthday parties back then were back yard things. Maybe a sleep over if you were cool. The rich kids had parties at places like the roller rink or maybe that pizza place where you could stand on the little ledge and watch them put your pizza together. Or that one ice cream place that made that huge sundae with one scoop of every flavor in the case. Yeah, back in the day. Roller skates, not blades. Bring on the disco ball and some Journey, maybe a little Air Supply, oh, yeah, back in the day.

Now, I know that kids love these pizza and game places. I know because my own kids love going there. They eat it up. It's like kiddie crack. They can't stop, just one more game mom, please. One more token. I need a few more tickets to get that junkie gizmo from that dirty glass case. They crave that nasty gummy pizza.

And here's the glitch in my psyche. I look around at the other parents in the place and either they're damn good liars or they actually enjoy these places and have some fun while they're in there. Every minute of it is like pure torture to me. The lights, the loud noises, the constant frenzy of where are my kids.

For a second let's move on to the where are my kids. Yup, I lost my 3 year old in the crowd within the first 3 minutes in the game area and where did I find here? She was at the top of a ride. Seriously. She's barely big enough to get on the ride, they let her on with no ticket, I was no where around, so it's not like they checked with me if she could ride the thing.

The thing is, she loved it. She rode on it about 15 times in a row. All the while giving this crazed sort of smile and laugh and giddy dance thing. Scary.

My perfect days and moments with my kids are simple. But then again, I like to think I'm a simple kind of chick. My best times are just knocking around the house together. Hanging out. Not doing anything big, not going any where. I'm a low production sort of gal.

You know, it's in that same vein of, I don't go to movies, we don't go out to eat, we don't take the kids to things like amusement parks or the pool or any of that jazz. Sometimes we head to a park or a beach, but I'm telling you what, it's going to be a lonely one. We pick the places without the crowds.

See, just plain old school. That's me.