Butterfly Ball

OK, I admit it, sometimes single parenting is a bummer. Like tonight, which is the father-daughter dance at Zoe's and Maya's school. Each year, I get to angst over what to do about the Butterfly Ball.

Get Grandpa to take them? He took Zoe in first grade (Maya wasn't yet at that school), and after two hours of pounding music at top volume, he said "NEVER AGAIN!" And I certainly don't have the heart to talk him into it, what with the oxygen tank and the electric scooter and all. . . .

Skip it? We did that last year, and no one seemed traumatized by the failure to go. Still, I hate that my children miss out on anything because of my decision to parent alone.

Take them myself? It's a father-daughter dance. I'm not a father. And doesn't it just highlight the fact, to them and everyone else, that they don't have a father if I take them myself? That seems awkward. I don't mind feeling awkard, but I very much mind them feeling awkward, or the center of unwanted attention, etc.

Find a daddy substitute to take them? I've toyed around with that, but the only real possibilities are dads of other girls at Zoe's and Maya's school, and no way would I want to interfere with their daddy-daughter time. Other male friends of mine are pretty much strangers to the girls, and that doesn't seem very enjoyable for them.

But we lucked out this year -- one of the dads we know invited the girls to join him and his daughters at the ball. The girls were thrilled, and while I won't seek out a dad to take them, thus interfering with daddy-daughter time, I certainly will jump at the opportunity when offered!

So, the girls are at the Butterfly Ball as I'm typing this, and instead of wallowing in a rare evening alone, I'm missing them and feeling a bit left out of the fun. Oh, well, I know they'll be home soon and I'll get to hear all about the dance, and feel happy that my little butterflies were included in the fun of the Butterfly Ball.