Rock Party

It is no secret since becoming a mom, I have had trouble making friends. And being a mother of two certainly didn't make it any easier. As a couple, we could probably count our good friends that we see on a regular basis with one hand. We could probably count the hand of someone that doesn't have a pinky.

The few times we go to other's people's houses, Josie and Owen experience some sort of psychotic break. They act like caged animals finally released into the wild. And unfortunately the wild is the living rooms of unsuspecting families who thought they were inviting ordinary toddlers into their home.

Last night we went to our friend's house for dinner. Mike and Janelle have been friends with Norm for a long time and they have a daugther the same age as Josie.

Kiera is probably Josie's first friend. And they couldn't be more different. Josie walked at 10 months. Kiera walked at 16 months. Josie doesn't eat anything except goldfish. Kiera eats everything including sushi with raw fish. Josie is crazy. Kiera is cautious.

Mike and Janelle have said on a few occasions that it would be good for Kiera to hang out with Josie to encourage Kiera to be a little less cautious and a little more adventurous. I agreed - it would be great if they could both learn from each other. Because clearly I haven't had any luck teaching Josie to look before she leaps.

When we walked into Mike and Janelle's house last night, Josie and Owen did the usual walk through. Walking right passed the neatly organized corner of toys, through the living room, around the dining room table and made a beeline for the backyard.

Josie picked up a ball on her way out the door. Her eyes lit up with excitement. Mine with horror. There in all its glory in their beautifully landscaped backyard sat a fountain with a beautiful waterfall flowing gently from the mouth of a pristine lion.

I didn't need to be a fortune teller to predict the impending doom. Within seconds the ball was in the fountain, Josie was getting yelled at, Owen was using the distraction to collect a pile of pastel colored rocks. Kiera was still waiting at the front door for the real guests to arrive. You know, the ones that wanted to sit and have a tea party with her.

Every time Norm or I tried to carry on a conversation with our friends, Josie or Owen were discovering something new to steal, wreck or color with black marker. While Norm was outside barbecuing with Mike, Owen threw a handful of pastel colored rocks at Josie's face. While Janelle and I were discussing preschools, Josie was dragging Kiera across the floor as they both refused to let go of a disney princess magna doodle.

After about an hour of adjustment, everything seemed like it was getting under control. And by everything, I mean our kids. The girls were in Kiera's room playing kitchen. Owen was outside gathering more pastel colored rocks. And the adults were in the kitchen in earshot of both the bedrooms and the outside.

For a few minutes, we joked about how simple it was the last time we had dinner when Kiera was a few weeks old sleeping quietly in the swing and Josie was trapped inside my stomach waiting to be born. Norm and I felt like good friends again instead of just bad parents.

I looked out the french doors to check on Owen and he was walking towards us with a giant grin that melted way all the anger I felt towards him in the last hour. I wasn't the only one admiring his sweet smile. Everyone else had stopped talking and was watching him waddle through the doors into the kitchen. Just as I was about to greet him lovingly, my instincts kicked in and I immediately ducked as I saw Owen's arm swing back and a handful of pastel colored rocks come rocketing our way.

Some bounced off the glass table. Some bounced off the bar stools. Some even made it all the way into the blue cheese dip. Owen was doubled over in laughter. I was double over in horror as I walked on my hands and knees trying to gather pastel colored rocks. I picked up Owen and took him outside trying to pretend like I was a mother who knew the right words to handle the situation.

Instead I sat on a chair with Owen and told him that he was no longer my favorite. I told him that every family has one naughty child and that position had already been filled. Owen kept looking at me and nodding his head and saying, "Uh-huh" like he was in total agreement. I put him down and went back into the kitchen and like all gracious hosts, they made it seem like no big deal. But for the rest of the night, every time someone stepped on a pastel colored rock, I couldn't help but cringe in embarrassment.