The Return Of Playdate Anxiety

By Neha Ruch

The first Spring weekend in New York and the weather Gods delivered. As soon as the temperatures spiked past sixty, the denim skirts made their debut on the quad when I was in college. My current day version is that the playdates and birthday circuit grow fierce, especially so after years of the pandemic protocol. This should be a happy occasion, so why do I feel the twist and turns of anxiety amidst the frolicking?

There’s been many write-ups and headlines on how we’ve forgotten how to socialize. These cute blurbs poke at the awkwardness of reacquainting with group outings, parties, and hosting. We laugh at the social fumbles of not knowing whether to fist bump or air kiss and dress up or dress down. We feel tired quickly from the banter and the late dinners. So if adults are feeling it, it’s no wonder the children are too.

The childhood mental health epidemic has grown rampant in this country, sadly affecting the teenage population most significantly. Our family felt lucky throughout these two years, both for having the resources to keep our family safe and to have kids who were young enough to be spared some of the more significant social impact.

Our Little Kids Post— Pandemic

While adult social skills might be rusty, children develop their social skills through interactions in their early years. My son and daughter are newly six and three and a half years old, respectively. That means they’ve spent the better part of their life in some version of the Covid cocoon.

However, affect did not spare the younger kids. While adult social skills might be rusty, children develop their social skills through interactions in their early years. My son and daughter are newly six and three and a half years old, respectively. That means they’ve spent the better part of their life in some version of the Covid cocoon. I’ve been so proud of how content and creative and loving they’ve remained in this trying time but it’s not lost on me that they are more reluctant to enter big groups or run free on a playground than they might otherwise have been.

This winter, I started to make a concerted effort to go to new playgrounds with friends after school and schedule regular group afternoon classes to break us out of the routine of homebodying. The kids took to it quickly - relished it even. It reminded me that this is what kids are meant to do - be kids. Play with other kids. Learn with other kids.

Degrees of Playdate Anxiety

So back to the Spring blossoming of social opportunities. This weekend we had two experiences that, while sweet, came with the strain of muscles that haven’t been exercised for a while.

First, a giant group playdate and another, a family birthday party. Both were full of people mostly unknown to my kids and in places equally new. Even for the most extroverted of us, it takes a certain amount of confidence to navigate the new environment and a fair amount of seasoned habit to small talk with relative strangers.

My children were shy pre-pandemic so unsuprisingly, they expressed reserve. They grew more attached to me. They showed traces of their nerves and big feelings. And as soon as we left, the relief was evident. They physically loosened and lightened into their normal state.

I watched my daughter separate easily on the school steps, reminding me of how drop-off would leave us both in tears just a mere five months ago. This, too, shall pass.

Ofcourse, following both those micro events, I stayed up googling and overthinking plans and strategies to create more ease, but all it did was tangle the stomach knots tighter. A flood of old familiar feelings returned. I was often the only parent holding my children’s hand in classes instead of sitting on the bench with other moms. The reality is that I’ve always felt like my best parenting is done in our home, and I’ve always felt a bit like a rookie in group environments where my kids need some more hand holding. So that tangle of knots has been there for while - a symptom of future state worry and insecurity about my own parenting.

I let myself take a day to unwind in between the play date and the birthday. I disconnected by switching from Google to a happy romance fiction for myself and let myself enjoy our simple, slow cocoon again. Today, my kids marched off happily - one to school and the other to spring break basketball camp with friends. I watched my daughter separate easily on the school steps, reminding me of how drop-off would leave us both in tears just a mere five months ago. This, too, shall pass.

Model, Reflect & Give Grace

In the meantime, I’ll borrow from commonly wielded advice from the parenting gurus that the best way to guide them through is to model the way and to cull the future state worry. That means, I won’t retreat back into the cocoon, but I will give us all grace as we emerge.

I’ll keep going with the structured play and classes where my kids thrive and still say [selective] yes’s to the more uncomfortable and unknown. I’ll set all of our expectations going in - mostly my own. I’ll show them how I introduce myself or say hello, find a spot that feels good and fun for me. I’ll also show them it’s ok to take care of yourself too. Those boundaries and strategies might include a code word to leave early, allowing them to sit on my lap, bringing a play entry point to share like chalk or bubbles or bringing an extra set of hands so that one can run while the other one stays close.

But mostly, this next season will mean loving them hard though the awkward moments. The moments they tantrum on a playground or refuse to acknowledge a new friend. Because they are not performing, they’re living and growing. And it’s not just them who are growing. It will mean like it did this weekend, giving us time to decompress after and finding quiet time together to reflect back what felt good and that it’s normal to feel overwhelmed or annoyed or left out.

The biggest piece of embracing these experiences is not for them, it’s for me - disconnecting my own worth and pride as a parent from how my children decide to behave on any given day. Their behavior is not a metric of my success or theirs either. Their personality is theirs not mine. Their social interactions are not for mine to curate, they’re theirs to learn from. My role is not to perfect, it’s to guide.

Guiding starts with leading but also keeping going and continuing to find new ways. We’re in transition again, so I’ll observe, give them some wiggle room and give myself some too.