Our High Standards Hamper Us

twisterNot that I was ever that much of a partyer, but I’m finding that even among our married (with children) peers, both CareerMom and I are boring, with a capital “B.”

Looking around, I’ve found that there are apparently two types of parents in this world:

A) Those who lead active social lives prior to having children and who, once they have children, see no reason not to continue doing so. They’ll pack the kids up and drag them to the ball park, Disneyland at the age of 2, Hockey games and other places, which to me, seems a bit nonsensical since you spend all your time watching the kids rather than whatever it is you’re there to see!

Then there are these folks:

B) Those who are somewhat social prior to having kids. Then after having kids, they realize that dragging all that baby crap everywhere is just a big ol’ pain in the butt, and anyway, who wants to see and hear my screaming youngins when they paid good money to be here!

CareerMom and I are most decidedly of the “B” group, while it seems like everyone we know, is in the “A” group. Case in point, we recently were invited to a neighbor’s house for something they have called, “The Event.”

Billed as something only offered to a “select” group of people, The Event promises:

  • South African wine tasting
  • Martini bar
  • Craft brew bar
  • Chair massages
  • Cigars
  • Complimentary drive home
  • Couples pool tournament
  • Beer pong
  • Afternoon pedicures and manicure

Does this not sound like the best! It does to us too, but we’re already finding problems getting a babysitter now that all the high-school kids are out of school and at the end of the day, CareerMom and I both seem to have come to the conclusion that it’s too much of a hassle to get someone to watch the kids. It appears that we’ve reached a silent agreement that we’ll just skip The Event altogether rather than making the effort to find a new sitter. How pathetic are we?

Now granted, there are probably 50 teenage girls in our neighborhood and we’ve barely scratched the surface in trying to find one, but part of the problem is CareerMom’s high standards for babysitting. Apparently, they have to meet the same standards originally set forth by CareerMom’s recently graduated youngest sister, and our longtime “old standby” babysitter:

1. An affinity for playing with children (Most teenage girls qualify: check)2. Be able to determine when water is hot enough to scald child in bath (Most teenage girls qualify: check)3. Doesn’t need to be motivated to clean up after playtime and/or dinner (Most teenage girls qualify: check)4. Be able to figure out how to manipulate the three remote controls required for proper television viewing (Most teenage girls qualify: check)5. Know our kids already (Most teenage girls qualify: OH! So sorry…thanks for playing!)

So really, it’s that one criteria preventing us from being social. Or are we just using it as an excuse? I suspect it’s a bit of both.

Are we really that boring or are we like our own little saboteurs, hamstringing our inner-partyer so that we can play the martyr while everyone else is having fun?

I tell ya, right about now, I could use a martini bar, some beer pong and maybe even a game of naked twister if the mood’s right.

4 thoughts on “Our High Standards Hamper Us

  1. Hmmm…I would have to say that we’re in the B group.

    We enjoy the occasional game night, but probably my favorite thing is having a date night every weekend. This is made entirely possible by my mother, my sister-in-law, and my highly trusted next-door neighbor. I can completely understand CareerMom’s concern about teenage babysitters. I was just talking about this with Matt last night. First of all, I remember how bad my teenage babysitters (mainly my brother who routinely tried to injure me, and my cousin who watched Dynasty all the time) were when I was a kid. Secondly, I remember how much I disliked babysitting when I was a teenager (there is no way that I could have been good). I have these visions of boys visiting and continuous texting without supervision….just.can’t.do.it. I think you are giving teenage girls way too much credit– I’ll give you #’s 2 & 4, but I’m not sure about #’s 1 & 3.

    RE: Oh, I have no illusions that my SIL did all those things. And one of the older (20-something) babysitters we use sometimes, who also works in MLE’s old daycare class, isn’t a whole lot better. She did at least, clean up after the kids were in bed, but she was sound asleep when we got home at 9:30. But, in all fairness, she had been dealing with 15 toddlers all day and that’s enough to wear anyone out!

  2. romi41

    Hahaha…I understand the difficulty of giving up the wee ones to the clutches of a teenage babysitter…I once spent a whole summer caring for 3 kids aged 4 to 11, and I was only 14!! Hahaha…I didn’t know what the heck I was doing, but I learned fast, or I just made them watch Days of Our Lives…LOL…

    RE: See, that’s what I’m talking about. Ya bring in a teenage girl and at worst, she knows how to dial 911. I mean, the party is on the same STREET as ours. Our son could head for the stairs and she could call me and I could be home in time to catch him before he hit the floor (almost)!

  3. I am not only in Group B – But I am President of Group B. My husband and I got my mother to watch the kid last weekend for a movie. One Movie. No lunch or dinner. And it was a day time movie. On our way to the theater we realized that we have not actually seen a movie IN the theater TOGETHER since she was born. We’ll take turns. I’ll go – come home – then he’ll go. We are so very very sad.

    RE: Don’t feel bad, either it’s horribly true that “Birds of a feather, flock together” and everyone who responds to my blog is of the same “feather,” or, there are waay more people like us on the planet than we would like to admit.

    But, with the price of 3-4 hour of a babysitter ($40), movie for two ($20) and dinner at a decent restaurant (and I’m talking like, one step above Outback Steakhouse) ($50), it’s darned expensive to have date nights…as required as they may be. Ugh!

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