Plug pulled: update

Decided to postpone aforementioned dinner party until next month. May go out to eat with some people this weekend anyway. Hubs bellows, so I must go now.

How do I know if I should pull the plug?

Hubs and I have been trying to start a new group for parents at our church, to get together once a month for dinner sans kids. We scheduled the first dinner for this Saturday and I began publicizing it about three weeks ago. I had already floated the idea in the abstract starting last spring, and lots of people expressed interest. However, after two weeks of having this publicized in the newsletter, on the backs of bulletins, etc. only one couple told me they would attend.

So on Sunday, I approached numerous people directly, and almost all expressed interest and wanted me to e-mail the information to them. So I did that, and now, most people haven't replied at all. Those who have replied have said they can't come - some are interested but have a conflict this month, and others aren't interested at all (I send out the message to most of the potential members in the congregation). So now, on the Wednesday before the dinner, it's still just Hubs, me, and one other couple.

Should I just cancel this thing? Try again next month? Forget the idea entirely? It's pretty frustrating, because I am making a concerted effort to get this thing going and right now it's going nowhere. I have a lot of personal energy and emotion tied up in this, as well as less personally-vested goals - I don't have a lot of close friends, and I was hoping to get to know some people better through this group - so I just don't know what to do. I feel like the kid who has a party but no one shows. I've been that kid, for real, in the past, and the feeling sucks.

Tales from church and other musings

Two walks into the church office with me, and I stop to speak with the Director of Christian Education. Two's getting a bit antsy, so I turn to him and try to engage him:

Me: Two, can you say hi to Mrs. DCE?
Two, loudly: COW POOP!
Mrs. DCE: Did he just say what I thought he said?
Two: Cow poop, cow poop, cow poop. Cow! Poop!
Me: Yes. His grandfather would be so proud - he taught Two to say that.

Fortunately Mrs. DCE has known me for most of my life and knows my family well. She knows of Two's obsession with all things cow-related. And she thought it was pretty darn funny.

And then, a few days later, on Sunday no less:

I was leading a group of little kids, ages 3-7 or so, in a discussion. We were talking about how God can heal you, and I asked each child to share a story about a time when s/he was hurt, and then tell us what or who made them feel better. As we went around the circle, kids shares stories of skinned knees, bike wrecks, scraped elbows, and other wounds which were typically cleaned up by a parent. A band-aid, a kiss, and sometimes a small treat made the injured party feel better. Then we got to Big Girl.

Me: Big Girl, would you like to tell us a story about a time when you were hurt?

Big Girl: Sure! Once upon a time, an alligator bit me, and then-

Me: An alligator? You're making this up, aren't you, Big Girl?

BG: Yep!

Me: What about a real story? Instead of a pretend story, can you think of a real story to tell us?

BG: Ummmm...

At this point, I stepped in and prompted her to recount details of a fall off her trike in the grass at my parents' house, and the group moved on. Here are the key details to take from this story:

Big Girl is obsessed with alligators now and mentions them several times per day. As a consequence of her phobia/fascination with them, we have implemented a strict no-alligator policy at our home. My mother has enacted a similar rule at her house. So Big Girl needn't worry - we won't allow alligators to come in to our houses.

Big Girl loves to make up stories, usually wildly imaginative ones. Her toys often have extended conversations and enact complex dramas under her guidance. I think she may have an imaginary friend or two, but I'm not sure.

Big Girl doesn't always distinguish between reality and imagination, and doesn't really understand why we need to be so strict about that all of the time. And I love that about her. That's why, when she and I picked out a book to start reading chapter-by-chapter at bedtime, I chose Anne of Green Gables, whose wild imagination makes me think of my own girl.

Going to whip something up...

What I really want to do is take a nap, but duty calls. I need to make something to take to the church picnic tonight, and then rouse the kids to take them to said church for fun and games before the meal. I have some couscous, diced tomatoes, corn, a sweet onion, and some fresh cilantro. I'll see what happens. I can always add some spices to liven things up if it doesn't taste good at first.

Children are exhausting

There were somewhere between 50 and 60 kids at the church this evening for choir and other assorted activities, and, well, some of them are unbelievably hyper. And I don't always mean that in a good way. After all of the afternoon's drama and woe, I'm so grateful to have such lovely, affectionate, polite, sweet children. And I'm so glad that they generally play well with others, at least when they're not being possessive about their own toys.

We spent nearly an hour outside in the bright late afternoon sun while the aforementioned child horde rampaged the playground and expended energy. No one was seriously hurt, and there was a snake spotting in the tree beyond the fence on the far side of the playground. I didn't go near there. I am afraid of snakes, although I did not admit this weakness to any of the boys who might have used that knowledge for evil. Fortunately I was not the sole adult supervising these kids, so I let the other moms handle the snake watching. I was busy enough keeping tiny girls from climbing to terrifying heights on the playground structure.

I learned several valuable lessons from today's experience, and not only about skills, words, and interests that I don't want my own children to possess. I learned that you can never have enough volunteers - parents, actually - supervising this group. I also learned that fifth graders can be surprisingly kind and accepting toward preschoolers, but not always. In addition, I learned that it's virtually impossible to capture the interest and attention of boys who are only there at church because their moms make them come, particularly when those moms drop them off and leave to get a few hours of peace away from said boys. Hmph. I think many of these issues are going to need some serious thought and planning, so that hopefully the wonderful volunteers we do have don't get burned out so quickly next year. I've done my share of volunteering in the past, but I've never been in the managerial role previously, and my appreciation for those women (and a lone man today) has multiplied tenfold.

In other news, Two is still sticking to his starch, cheese, and sweets diet plan. He also has started another delightful habit: throwing his cup across the room if he discovers that it contains water, instead of his beloved juice. And Big Girl? She'll be singing in church this weekend with her choir group. Can't wait to see her. I need to pull out the ironing board and make sure her new pretty white dress looks pressed and perfect for the occasion. And I need to remember to scrub her ears - because when she plays in dirt, that girl gets it everywhere.