changelings

Yesterday was a play date. Sort of. The girls had their friends over because of a birthday party. The older brother was going to Brandon with four friends, so his sisters wanted to do something fun. And a play date here was it.

Okay. I had known about this for a while. However, I have subscribed to the "don't tell your kids anything until it actually happens" school of parenting for seven years, and I didn't see any need to change that. My children get themselves so worked up and excited with anticipation, and with our slightly spontaneous farming existence it has always been prudent to treat them like cute little mushrooms.

What a mistake. The girls did so well with the "oops, we're going to Edmonton" surprise, so I had figured that the "oops, your friends just happened to show up" surprise would be met with the same calm, easygoing manner.

Not a chance. I saw my seven year old transition from a child who is relatively intelligent, somewhat well behaved, generous most of the time to a bossy, silly pre-teen. Hannah Montana figured into the conversations. Every activity was based on her fantasies. Listening and family social skills went out the window.

The five year old reacted, somewhat predictably, poorly. We dealt with crying jags, a chasing game of "Charli, come here" until Mom had to tackle the child and remove her to another location and subsequent hyperventilation. Hers, not mine, honestly.

It was trying. I truly pity the teachers who get these little changelings in two weeks or so. Hopefully the four of them have got some of the horrible sillies out...or I wouldn't want to be the bus driver.

So today, when faced with going to town to take the kids into the library program, I opted out. Maybe the socialization would have been beneficial for them, but this time, Mom chose to act like the mushroom.

I'm sorry for the teachers, but I just need a few more days of peace and quiet before the changelings transition again.