I'm Missing It

When my kids were little, I was never alone.

Despite the obvious fact that they were with me all the time, there was also this "thing" that happened: all the other grown-up people who were with their kids wanted to hang out. With me.

I miss those days.

Our baby group days.

My kid, she was kinda aggressive. She was the giant toddler who would roll over the mini toddler to get to the blocks. I think she tried to wrestle one kid to the ground once; I remember pulling her off, apologizing. I think I brought beer once. They never kicked me out.

"She is just bigger than the rest," they said.

"Holy fucking hell," I said.

"My other kid is really sweet and nice and oh shit I have to go pick her up..."

Then I was pregnant. Again.

Baby groups die when you get pregnant. No one likes an unknown.

Plus -- you have another baby, and it's a miracle if anyone gets fed other than him.

Baby groups?

Yeah, right: forget it.

I miss 'em though, the baby groups. It seems like lately my life is just the Three Short Drunks and no others. I manage more paperwork for them than I ever did as publicist. I drive carpools, but I wave to the parents/my friends from the car. The kids sit in the back mostly and I play DJ.

"Does your mom know this song?" I say.

Is she happy, I think. Does she wish I came to the door rather than my kid? Does she want to talk, or is she as tired as I am? Does she want to make a play date -- with me?

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss the days when I was knee knee deep in poopy diapers and strollers I couldn't fold and worries about crawling and sitting up and reading and "socialization." It was easier than to talk about parenting. It was easier than to group up in the morning before naps.

I miss the days when we would get together to figure it all out.