This is the way The Lu generally approaches another kid.
She's an extrovert, undaunted by age or size difference (a good thing, as she is a squirt of a thing and unlikely to exceed the 0 - 10 percentile ranking on which she --and her parents-- have taken a firm stand.)
She's adorable. And yet. No takers. Not here in the U.P. Is it possible that even the three - five year olds around here have taken note of our Ohio plates?
We've been here for only six weeks. We're doing okay, but it's hard to be new in town, and making friends takes time. I know this. I busy her with any family-friendly form of entertainment within a 45 minute drive. We go to the lake. We go to the fair. We become french fry experts.
But we've just left New York, where friends that rolled on the same floor with her at mere weeks old were plentiful, and were literally right around the corner at all times. Planned, or unplanned, Lu saw her NY friends daily, twice a day, and often, more often than that.
She wants playmates. And frankly, so do I.
I take her to the college homecoming events where I am sure we'll encounter other families. The Bounce House is the natural starting point. But my timing is off, I guess, because it is mostly empty during our visit. However, with each intermittent bouncer, Lu gives it a go:
will you pway wiff me?
Over and over I watch these attempts...
will you pway wiff me?
will you pway wiff me?
will youpway wiff me; wanna be my fwiend?
The first boy actively ignores her, and appears a little put out to have to ignore at all.
mommy, he's not talking to me.
"I think he wants to play independently." (Seems like the right nonjudgmental thing to say???)
She looks at me quizzically.
he's not talking.
"It's okay. He wants to be alone."
She looks to the boy:
wanna be my fwiend?
The boy says nothing. Bounces some. She bounces. He pretends not to notice her.
I sit in the corner of a giant inflated surface in my socks and try not to die.
A pair of boys come in and they are super friendly but they do not want to slow down to a two-year-old's bounce-pace, which must seem glacial if you're six.
She tries to keep up --laughing all the while, but mostly for her own benefit-- until the boys get bored and leave.
Two older girls come in and they seem really promising.
wanna be my fwiend?
They grin, they look at me.
"Yeah, okay," they say, and even: "She's so cyuuuute!"
Lu is beside herself. She bounces. She uses the word "yippee" in earnest. She bounces some more.
But within the first twelve seconds of their arrival, the bigger girl does a cartwheel and kicks the younger one directly in the face. There is crying, the older one is defensive. They pack up to go. Lu--at two-years-old-- looks at me and says,
i'm gonna go check to see if my fweind is all right.
But the family is gone in a flash of jackets and a flurry of shoes and "you-girls-are-too-old-for-that-shit-anyway."
*Sigh*
When we get home, I go on facebook to make us some friends. Ideally, I'll find a parent with a kid who will play with my kid. I know it's sexist of me, but I am looking for a mom more than a dad. I'm a little intimidated by the tall, brawny nordic looking men who calmly wear short-sleeved shirts outdoors in 22° weather, with their locked jaws, letting out nary an emotion when they speak, let alone a vowel.
I'm looking for a mom. A compatible mom. Another walking contradiction of "I-go-jogging-so-I-can-drink-beer" and/or wine-drinking yoga mom. Friendly, but fierce. Madly in love with her child and simultaneously not afraid to publicly refer to the child as a jerk. "I take my kid to McDonalds... but I bring baby carrots." "I'm really patient until I run out of patience." "I-can-do-it-all-myself-now-will-someone-please-help-with-something-anything-just-give-me-ten-minutes-to, to, to... pluck my brows! No, take out the trash! No, implement a good idea! What was that good idea? No, never mind, I just squandered all ten minutes scrolling through social media."
Her. I'm looking for her.
But how to introduce myself?
I consider Lu's direct "will you pway wiff me? wanna be my fwiend?," but I am a grown up and I've learned the subtleties of engaging with another person by showing interest, yet not coming on too strong. Here's what I've got so far:
Hi, I'm Ginna. I'm a bleeding-heart liberal feminist, all race-loving, all religions-loving, LGBTQ-loving new-mom-at-forty, now 43, struggling on an hour-to-hour basis not to raise my voice when my kid wipes fresh banana across the two pairs of pants I just laundered. ("look, mommy. look what i did," she says, her face smeared with banana goo, and smiling a shhhfruit-eating grin.) Ha ha!
Ha ha.
Aren't kids hilarious?
Ha ha.
HA HA HA HA. HaHHAAAAHAHHHAAAAHAHHHAAAAAHHHHHHHHBEMYFRIEND!
Also, I'm from Ohio. So, just know that. I can't change that about myself. I can refrain from saying "Go Bucks" in your presence, but you will know the sentiment is there, just like all those scarlet and grey clothes we enjoy in private, but dare not wear in public because we're trying to make friends in Michigan dammit!
Anyway... I'm in the theatre. Yes, as a job. I've done some writing. 90% of it includes profane language, which my toddler is picking up a remarkably rapid rate ("They sure are little sponges, aren't they!")
It might appear like I am very tired, but that's just my face. I used to have a sorta cute "girl-next-door-kind-of-thing" going on, but a couple months ago, it all just fell forward. The face-flesh, I mean. And now you can't really see my irises. And my mouth is on the verge of concealment-by-jowls. But, don't worry, I'll get my CNN-inspired opinions out!
I should warn you, don't get too attached to us, because we leave everyplace that we go. I don't mean that you'll get attached to me, really. You might think at this point that it'll be me because I come off as loving and lovable with a vast vocabulary and friendly dog-jowls, but soon you'll realize that I am intolerable, highly emotional, and highly high-maintenance. (And it's not that vast.)
Lu, on the other hand, you will believe to be intolerable, highly emotional, and highly high-maintenance on first glance, but slowly you'll see that she is entirely loving, lovable, with the most adorable marshmallow cheeks (fated, of course, but not for decades), and you are likely to say to me --at some point-- "She really has a vast vocabulary; how old is she?" (1,055, I think, something like that? I'm not quite sure how many past lives I'm dealing with, here.) She, my potential new friend, will break your heart when we move again.
So. That's us. Unreliable. Often late. Puffy-faced. Past-lives. We both talk too much and too loudly. I drink wine every night (but I love to share; want to come over and have some?? Want to? Want to?) Oh, and I'm still breastfeeding, did I mention that? In public. Regularly. We're a pretty irresistible package. And we'd love to hang out. Unless you voted for Trump. And then never mind. I'll drink all the wine myself.
* A note: it's been several months since the day at the bounce-house, and I am happy to report that Katie Lu and I have each made friends in Sault Ste. Marie.
* * Another note: I have, by now, weaned my walking, talking child.
Some of our Mother-Daughter Dates (yes, those are chickens) The video captures The Bounce House:
^ The Bounce House
