“Whatever, you’re not a real parent until you have more than one kid,” shamelessly dead-panned a good friend of mine a few weeks ago over happy hour.

A few other moms totally laughed and agreed.

This particular friend was relaying a stressful drive with her two girls and a co-worker, who has one kid, while her two girls fought mercilessly in the back seat. And the single child quietly read a book. She eventually had to pull over and lay into her kids…right around K Street…during rush hour.

We’ve all been there. And little can raise your blood pressure like two siblings unleashing on each other over absolutely nothing. In this particular instance, one girl was holding her face inches from her sister’s face yet stating, factually, that she wasn’t touching her.

#AreWeThereYet

But what do parents of just one kid say about the  statement that they aren’t “real parents” – probably “F you, I’ve got my hands full” – right?

Lord knows when I had my first, I thought my whole world was caving in and I could barely get a meal on the table with one little 6 week old. By the time I had my second, I wondered what in the world was the big effing deal the first time around, a newborn has nothing on a 3-year-old. Right?

So then there are parents with 3 kids or 4 kids…..I’m sure they’re all looking at people with two kids thinking it’s a joke because we’re luxuriously handling man-on-man defense while they’re in the Zone.  Let’s cut to the chase, however, once you get beyond 4 kids, we’re all pretty  much judging you and wondering what in the world you were thinking or smoking to compel you to have that many kids.

#NoThanks

Or how about the people who have the kids super close together – they know they’re being gossiped about and people are wondering what they were on when they made that decision. A good friend of mine with 3 kids, all under the age of 5, basically accepted that she was Slutty Mom at her girls’ preschool for the duration of her pregnancy with the third because the youngest two would be 15 months apart when baby was born. She probably was right.

#MomWhore

Right now, over in Wired Momma Land, I see a woman with a 3-year-old at preschool and she is always carrying  a baby, presumably her own, who I guess to be about 9 months, yet she also looks to be about 9 months pregnant.

I stare. I judge. I struggle (with great difficulty) to do the math in my head. Could she have a 9 month old and be 9 months pregnant? Could it be a small 11 month old? What if she’s just really big because it’s her third kid and so she’s really only 6 months along?  

Any way you slice it, I actually don’t think of her as Slutty Mom, I just wonder: did gazing into the sweet eyes of a two-week-old (who never sleeps) tempt her so?

#IsThatPossible?

Or is she one of those unlucky people who thought she was safe because she was nursing and got pregnant the first time she had sex after the baby was born?

#NursingDoesn’tMeanYouAreSafe

To say that I am fascinated would be an understatement.

But why do we care? What difference does it make?

Who knows but whether it’s spoken or unspoken – there is a parenting hierarchy and we size each other up.

On really bad days, I see people leisurely out with one kid and I am probably part jealous and part thinking they really aren’t real parents. Even though I had never processed it that way until my friend said it. I’ve already admitted to judging someone who has a bunch of kids, especially super close together in age, and don’t tell me you parents of three kids or four kids – that you don’t look at the rest of us, especially in our non-Minivan sweet rides (ha ha – kidding) – and think we’ve got it easy.

Judgy Judge Judge Judge.

We LOVE to do it.

How about parents of twins? Where do they fit in here? You know they’re looking at new moms with one baby and thinking their life is a joke. Personally I get annoyed when parents of twins complain to me – because last count – I still have two kids who also make demands and run in different directions and wake up at night.

Think about the Jolie Pitt clan….they have the one-two punch of a ton of kids and twins….even with more money than God to fund nannies and staff, we still talk about it. Recall there was a time when people speculated that Angie was addicted to motherhood.

#I’mNot

Don’t tell me I am alone here.

There is absolutely a parenting hierarchy but my guess is, we each fancy ourselves, on top.

Thoughts as you’re pulling out of the preschool parking lot?

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Ahh….moonbounce….giant inflatable parental torture device…..how naive I was to your ways when we first met.

How unprepared I was for the blood pumping, heart racing, stress inducing powers you wield behind that inviting mesh door and bouncy facade.

How blinded I was by your large happy slide.

How distracted I was by your ability to burn off my crazy children’s energy and make them glee with delight.

So naive.

So unsuspecting.

So unprepared.

Is anyone ready for the reality of a moon bounce? How could I have ever been so unprepared for the possible outcomes that accompany a large jumping device that encourages small children to jump, bounce, fall, and generally act crazy?

But see – it’s not so much the children and their unwillingness to ever leave said parental torture device that presents the greatest challenge to moi – it’s the other parents or caretakers hovering around or IN the moon bounce that leave me fraught with stress, anger and frankly, in yesterday’s instance, RAGE.

Pure Wired Momma rage. I should bottle it up.

C’est vrai.

You’ll have to tell me what you think of what happened yesterday – will you be Team Wired Momma or Team Grandma? And if you’re Team Grandma, please, seriously – weigh in – because I want to know. I promise I won’t unleash my bottled WM rage on your doorstep.

Even though I left the moon bounce with my blood boiling all the way down through to my toes….

As we’re in spring break and generally taking it easy, on Tuesday I found myself at Montgomery Mall with my 2 girls, ages 3 and 6. We really had no plan and no place to be, so we made our way over to Bubble Bounce adjacent to the kids play area. I’ve gone a few times with my youngest and it’s pretty much always empty, sparing me of much of the Moonbounce drama that is inevitable at larger gatherings like say, Butler’s Orchard at Halloween Time. (nightmare – I’m talking to you, parents, who use the Moonbounce as your own personal babysitter while small children wait in unnecessarily long lines to have a turn because you don’t make your kid get out.)

Per the usual, the place was mostly empty but my youngest was squealing with glee because she finally had her older sister there to jump and play with. The girls were getting their shoes off and prepping for some hardcore jumping when I noticed a Grandmother enter with her 18 month old granddaughter in the stroller and inquire if there is an age requirement. The women at the front desk just noted if she’s comfortable with it, then by all means, go right ahead – just sign this waiver here.

A bit later, my girls were jumping in the extra-large Dora/Diego moon bounce and that grandmother was in the moon bounce with her 18 month old. Any time either of my girls jumped within proximity of her grandkid, she made eyes at me – like “get them away from my kid”

I just glared back. Her kid isn’t my problem, and my girls were doing what one does in a moon bounce – which is jump. Please, weigh in now if you disagree with me. I think we can all see now where this story is headed…..

Soon after my girls ditched that one for another moonbounce and frankly I was a little relieved.

Nearing the end of our 30 minute session, they decided to head back into Dora/Diego to test it out again. This time Grandma was in the way back of the moonbounce with her grandkid. My girls ended up that way – jumping past them  (why must children gravitate to each other in one square inch of an otherwise 40 foot moonbounce?) – and Grandma says loudly to my 6-year-old “Be careful!” as she passed by the grandkid.

Immediately, like the grizzly mama that I am – I am on ALERT because my 6-year-old’s job is NOT to worry about her grandkid. Now – don’t get me wrong – of course she knows to be careful when babies are around and to let them go first, not push them, etc etc — but if you are in a moonbounce then you know that children are going to ….JUMP…around you.

Now I was on high alert because who was following my 6-year-old but my admittedly high energy 3-year-old who absolutely does not give a shit about a baby.  She isn’t going to try to hurt a baby but she absolutely is not going to take an extra precaution because there’s a baby around her. She’s three.

As she is happily jumping right past the baby, this grandmother raises her voice at my 3-year-old – not quite shouting but one decimel below it – and says “BE CAREFUL THERE IS A BABY RIGHT HERE”

Imagine the camera panning to my face…surely it flushed bright red with seething anger as I very firmly and angrily barked across this enormous Moonbounce to my new enemy
DO.

NOT.

RAISE YOUR VOICE

AT MY KID!

If only I had Gumby arms, they would have practically been wrapped around her neck by then.

I could feel the blood boiling seriously all the way to my toes.

This woman barks back at me “She is just a baby, they need to be careful!”

I was FURIOUS. I said “Excuse me, my kid is also little, she is three, and need I remind you that you are IN A MOONBOUNCE where children jump!”

Then suddenly, out of Diego’s backpack turned into life boat, another Mother pops up – I didn’t even see her there – it’s like I am Dora-Diego hell. This woman is holding ANOTHER 18 month old.

How could there be TWO of them there?
And she pipes up in defense of Grandma, barking back at me “She’s not yelling at your kid but when there are babies, they need to be careful.”

Clearly I’ve got no dog in this fight and as I am raging mad, I’m considering the example I’m supposed to be setting for my kids and I’m wondering if I could be in the wrong here – are they right? Is it my 3-year-old’s responsibility to worry about babies in a moonbounce?

Or is it their responsibility to PICK UP THEIR BABY when they see other kids coming their way if they are worried about the outcome?

Team Grandma or Team Wired Momma?

Fortunately our 30 minutes were up, so I had an easy out, which was to corral the girls out of the moonbounce and leave but if you know me, you know I wasn’t leaving them with the last word and I huffed “When you opt to go into a moonbounce, you invite children to bounce around you, that’s what it’s here for.”

Then as luck would have it, my precious, innocent angel of a 3-year-old chose that moment to throw an epic tantrum, complete with Speedy Gonzales running legs as I’m lifting her out of the moonbounce and her old favorite tactic – the try to claw mommy’s face because I am so mad but I refuse to use my words – fit.

Ahh…spring break bliss…..and proof that my demon child was out to hurt their babies……..

Thank you moonbounce.

So – what say you – of the politics of Moonbounce Spring Break 2012? Team Grandma or Team WM?

And am I alone in this tortured relationship with the Moonbounce?

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