My major source of mothering guilt? Play dates. You know the drill – the 3.30 bell rings and your kid comes tearing across the playground with another child in tow, they pull up, breathless and excited and yours says “Can X come over for a play?” Cue guilt. Because my answer is inevitably no.

No because I have four kids who, on any given night, have to be taken in at least two different directions. Sometimes it’s eleventy billion directions all at the same time. Last time I checked, taxiing people around didn’t constitute a fun play date. Secondly, on the rare nights when every star in the universe aligns and I don’t have to take anyone anywhere, I want to lie on the couch in my trackies (as opposed to supervising activities that don’t involve screens… Just being honest). Continue reading →