The Dating Game?
Throwing out a kiss, MUAH!
Well, well, well…I think I just set my six year-old up on a date!? Maybe.
I do know that I just gave Azul’s phone number out to a girl. To be fair, I actually gave my number to another little girl’s mom, but for some reason the exchange made me feel like Jim Lange ready to throw out a kiss at the end of “The Dating Game” to solidify the new relationship.
Cue applause.
Announcer: “Here is the star of our game, Azul’s mommy!” I gleefully walk out on stage, microphone in hand, a skip in my step and a wave for the studio audience.
Continue applause.
Announcer: “Now welcome bachelor number one. He is six, in kindergarten and his favorite class is P.E.”
More applause.
Announcer: “And let’s say hello to our lovely bachelorette, she is also in kindergarten, has blonde hair and freckles!”
Applause fades.
I’m not exactly sure what happened, most of the real conversation was mute to me because I had The Dating Game scenario playing in my head. It all started very innocently.
“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever officially met,” said the mini bachelorette’s mom as she approached me on the playground after school and introduced herself.
“Hi!” I responded as I stood up to shake her hand and continued the introductions. “I’m Carmelina.” At this point the interaction was similar to every other conversation I have had with other classmate’s parents.
“You know my daughter talks about Azul all the time. She really likes him, as you can see, they’re always playing together. We should get together for a play date.” She pointed them out playing tag or chase or something. I turned my head to see them playing and then back to her with a knowing smile on my face.
“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” I answered. I’m not sure what part of what she just said triggered it, but this is when my mind started doing its own thing and The Dating Game was on!
Bachelorette: “Describe your idea of the perfect play date.”
The mom continued, “Maybe one day Azul can come over to our house to play and you can pick him up later.”
“Sure, yeah. You guys just live down the street, right?” I said slowly, still smiling and now nodding. Then there was some talk about where both of us live, but I was focused on the game show playing in my head.
Bachelorette: “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“You know we think Azul is so nice and sweet. Our daughter told us he was the best behaved kid in class.” She was definitely more involved in the conversation than I was. I just stood there, my stance as dependable as a bobble head on the dash of a car.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling and nodding.
Bachelorette: “My mother is very protective, how would you describe yourself to her to make a good impression?”
“Let me get your number and I’ll text you, then you’ll have mine,” she said, grabbing her phone as the mini bachelorette came running up.
“Okay,” I responded and gave her my number and waved good-bye, as she and the mini bachelorette walked away hand in hand, leaving me standing alone at the playground dumbfounded.
Announcer: “Well it seems as if you kids are off to a great start!”
Applause.
Everyone throws a kiss in unison, “MMMMUAH!”
More applause.
What just happened?
The Big 6
Now that the party, presents and celebratory eating out is over, reality is setting in — I am the mother of a six year-old. Whaaat?!
Getting used to saying I was someone’s mom in the first place was surreal to me. I was a first time mom at thirty-six and up to that point I was just “me.” For years there was no other title I held which connected me to anyone else other than myself.
I am convinced the reason we keep track of babies ages in months is so parents can slowly get used to being a parent, month by month. Once I was familiar with responding to being “Azul’s mom,” it was easy, I was his and he was mine, and like most parents, I wore my title with pride. I had no problem admitting I was a mom, not to mention I had an infant on my teat most of the day, so that kind of gave it away.
The transition from being a parent of an infant to toddler is an easy one, saying “my one year-old” is just as easy as saying “my two year-old” or “my three year-old.” Then there is four. This is the point where you realize that your baby is a little person and a personality starts to show (or rears its ugly head). Personality warps into budding independence and all of a sudden you have a “five year-old.” Looking back, this all seems to happen in the blink of an eye, but the fact remains, your connection to your child is still there, they are still just little guys who need you and you need them.
Your parenting grows with your child and both of you are still experiencing something new together. When you are five years into parenting, that’s exactly what it is, five years, a parent of a five year-old, and you think, “not bad, I’ve done this for five years,” with some sense of accomplishment. I’m not sure if it is the number or age or both, but at six something changes. Your baby is going to Kindergarten and is SIX! And the real kicker, not only is your child now six years old, you are six years older too. Ugh!
Azul is six and in school all day and I am forty-two! What happened? Is this what a mid-life or mid-parenting crisis feels like? Where did the time go?
I am sure there are more mid-parenting (although “mid” is deceiving) crises to come, but right now all I can do is let it sink in…I am the mother of a six year-old.
First Things First
Azul has officially finished his first full week of all-day Kindergarten and experienced a lot of firsts.
The first of the “firsts” was getting worked. The first day of school, when I picked up my exhausted, smiley-faced big boy, the first thing he said to me was, “Man, they really work you there.”
Of course this is after months of being on Summer Break and a year of a pre-school, where their moto was “learning through play,” which actually meant, “we just play.” Azul has three years of experience in pre-school and knows the difference between working and not. And now he is getting worked! He has no idea.
Second, eating in the cafeteria. He is very excited about this and I am very excited not to have to make lunch for him anymore. The day he was talking about his cafeteria ritual with euphoria in his eyes, I knew he was in love. He had his very first Sloppy Joe. I know, he is almost six years old and never had a Sloppy Joe, but I just don’t cook like that. I guess the Red Rice and Organic Beans with Roasted Beets and Broccoli is no Sloppy Joe.
“What did you guys have for lunch?” I asked
“Sloppy Joes!” he excitedly answered.
I repeated, “Sloppy Joes?” more as a question than a statement.
“I loved that sweet meat!” he said with his eyes slightly closed and his head tilted back.
I can’t compete with “sweet meat.”
Third, how to behave on the playground. He’s familiar with playing at the playground and already experienced lots of playground time, but now he is a big Kindergartener.
“Guess what I did today?” he asked me, and I had visions of him counting to one hundred, forward and backward in front of the class, or reciting the Preamble to the Constitution when no one else could (he doesn’t really know the Preamble, it was just my parental fantasy).
“What?” I responded.
“I had a wicked fall!” He continued, “I felt like I was punched in the stomach, but I didn’t tell the teacher or anything, it wasn’t an emergency like bleeding or like that. I didn’t cry, I just played through the pain.” He was talking non-stop with some sense of pride.
“Oh, my!” was all I could think to say without bursting his bubble or ruining his story.
“Yeah, like you know that, like rock climbing wall? I slipped.”
I guess we all, like, have a wicked fall in school.
Finally for the week, bribery. Making friends is a hard thing to do, and some of us go to great lengths for friendship, but this is one had to be stopped before it got out of control and too expensive.
Azul talked about his new friends, although he couldn’t remember anyone’s name, and one boy in particular (again, the boy has a name he just doesn’t remember it) who is his best friend. As the conversation continued, I began to feel uncomfortable as it took a turn for the worse. Apparently, Azul asked this boy if he wanted to play and the boy said no, so Azul promised him twenty bucks to be his friend. Well, the monetary offer worked and they played and had the time of their lives.
I didn’t pay out the “gentleman’s agreement!”
“Firsts” are awesome, they are the moments you always remember, or at least the things others remember when all you want to do is forget.
I can’t wait for next week…
Carmelina Hart 