These days of the trivial

No matter how hard I think about it, I’m unable to extricate myself from the mess.

Friday afternoons means play dates. We alternate between our house and our friends’ houses. Sometimes I have six children here all at once, but I’m adapting. Parent teacher conferences mean that the children all finish early. Instead of 3 hour play dates we now have span from 1:15 until 6 p.m.. Only this week it is more complicated.

My daughter will go to her pal Jane’s house at 3 as they do not have parent teacher conferences this week in their school district. However, we have her other pal, Mary, at our house in the interim, until then, or until her mother comes to collect her, whenever that might be. How long does it take to fix a car’s windshield? Somehow I have to manovre six children back into the car, wearing their shoes, socks and clothes, so that I can deliver my daughter to Jane’s regular play date and then return home again, another transition for four special needs kids and one left over ten year old Mary. It leaves me with an additional social, etiquette dilemma to explain to my daughter.
“Why can’t Mary come with me, and play at Jane’s too?”
“No I’m afraid you can’t ask extra friends to a play date at someone else’s house.”
“But why?”
“Because it’s rude.”
“But what’s Mary gonna do when I’m away with Jane?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find something to do, until her mother comes to fetch her.” Her eyes flick back and forth between me and Mary, pleading. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that she has a fun time, she won’t be lonely.”

She looks at her friend and contemplates her position. I’m not sure with whose plight I am most sympathetic? My daughter’s loyalty to two different pals? Or Mary, with only four little boys to play with? I’m not quite sure why this is so difficult? I am more than capable of entertaining Mary. I am probably capable of supervising four boys at the same time but somehow it seems topsy turvy.

Not so long back I always used to know what was the ‘right thing to do,’ even if I didn’t necessarily do it. These days I have trouble figuring out what exactly the ‘right thing’ is in the first place. It’s worse that trying to match 42 single smallish, whitish, socks into pairs. I need some clear headed, logical, thinker to intervene. Someone to help me separate the wood from the trees, before I get completely lost in the forest. When will he ever get back from England.

So saying, if this is the ‘most’ I have to worry about, I must be a pretty lucky woman these days.