It's Playtime

It's finally done. After a year of planning, and countless overrulings of the plans, Spawn attended his first playgroup today.

The day didn't start very well, as we were unwittingly about three-quarters of an hour late. Not that it matters when you turn up, it's just wasted time. It was a rather stiff trek (yeah, yeah, I'm out of shape, get over it), but what matters is we got there.

Grumpy had warned me that the church that runs the particular playgroup is pretty much Fundie Central (the book-burning kind, no less - I kid you not). But this is the boonies here, and it's the closest place for Spawn to socialise, and I can't afford to be too picky. Grumpy did say that watching me give them a piece of my mind when they try to peddle their branch of churchianity to me would be worth it. Hrmph. Not happening. There was not as much as a mention of the G word this time, and I trust myself to have my not-preachable aura on at full force.

Evangelism aside, Spawn enjoyed himself, ran around the place, rode scooters and trikes, ignored the treats and juice (too close to his breakfast, I suppose), and although I had to get in the way a few times to stop him from grabbing whatever toy any other child was interested in, he didn't try to slap anyone that pissed him off. Phew. He's not exactly sociable right now, but he'll learn, and if he doesn't make friends, at least it won't be a culture shock when he goes to nursery next year.

I knew he had tired himself out playing when he let me put him into his buggy for the walk back without as much as a protest, and proceeded to sleep for almost four hours after his lunch. Mission accomplished, and we're definitely going back, at the right time. Next step, finding a suitable group in town as well, for a different flavour.