Not My Kids

We were at a birthday party today, with a pack of kids ranging from a few months old to 5. We have gone through a few birthday parties with this same crew of people, though a few babies have been added along the way. I'm related to the birthday child, which is why we are included.

In birthdays past, there have been the same kid-tastrophes that occurred today: hitting, biting, someone not the birthday child opening some presents, a handprint in the birthday cake, potty accidents, diaper explosions, fits, fights, and escapee children.

The difference is that today, when those things happened, it was NOT MY KIDS who committed any of those acts.

In the past, with this particular group of people, my kids were the only ones who would stray farther than 6 inches away from Mama; they were loud, they got into things, they weren't on their best behavior. In most of the cases, the things they didn't weren't truly horrible, but when it was only my kids who were doing anything wrong, I had to deal with the Smug Mommies, the "tsk-tsk"ing, the looks.

So, yes, I'm being a little bit mean and reveling in the fact that these same moms who used to look at me with that can't-you-control-your-children look are now having to deal with the same behavior that they were so appalled at when it came from my kids.

I didn't return that smug look, though, I just laughed...knowing that next time, it probably will be one of my kids doing some of those things, but oh, how good it feels to be on the other side for once.