Reflecting on my childhood, I remember a few key houses that became the gathering spots for my friends and me. We would devour snacks, create chaos, and leave a trail of mess behind us. We took over living rooms, sprawled out on couches, and dictated what was on TV. Our adventures included darting in and out of homes for bathroom breaks or refreshing drinks during moments of high-energy play. The parents at those homes welcomed us with open arms, always ensuring there were chips and pitchers of Kool-Aid ready. Fast forward three decades, and my own home has transformed into one of those beloved gathering places.
I truly enjoy living on my street. In recent years, it has shifted from a neighborhood of retirees to one filled with young families. Now, several children call this area home, most notably my three kids (ages 8 and 6) and the four kids living just two doors down, ranging from ages 5 to 12. Together, they form a rambunctious group that hops between our homes, with my yard or kitchen often housing extra little guests.
And what are they usually on the hunt for? Gum.
Yes, you read that right. Every child who visits knows there’s a stash of bubble gum tucked away in the middle drawer of our kitchen. Sometimes they ask for a piece, but more frequently, a child—often one who isn’t mine—will casually stroll through and start rummaging through the drawer. Just the other day, the neighbor’s five-year-old questioned, “Why do you only have mint gum?” I raised an eyebrow and replied, “Because you ate all the other flavors, and I haven’t been to the store yet.” With a sigh, she reluctantly chose the spearmint before heading back outside. Don’t fret; they always return, often without knocking or ringing the doorbell.
One of my biggest frustrations about being “that house” is the incessant traffic through my front door. It’s a constant cycle of opening and closing, which has me juggling worries like, “Close the door before the dog escapes!” and “What do you need now?” Each time the door swings open, my anxiety spikes, albeit not enough to wish for fewer kids around—just enough to make me slightly irritable and distractible. When there are 5-8 kids coming in and out, there’s always someone needing something: a snack, a shoe tied, a Band-Aid, or a sympathetic ear to listen to the latest “drama” involving sharing.
When my house is lively, I find myself focusing on little more than unloading the dishwasher for an hour. Nevertheless, for all the chaos and minor inconveniences, I genuinely cherish being the go-to place for playdates and spontaneous drop-ins. It warms my heart to know my kids’ friends feel comfortable enough to ask, “What’s for dinner?” and I’ll always make sure there’s a seat for them. True, kids can be a bit demanding, expecting mac and cheese to magically appear, but I’m okay with that.
I also love that my kids’ friends feel at home enough to request sleepovers, knowing I’ll tuck them in at night. There’s something delightful about watching a gaggle of kids crammed into the living room, munching on popcorn while watching a movie. As much as my own kids may drive me a little crazy, I prefer them being in our home rather than elsewhere.
But it’s not just about keeping an eye on them—though I do get to overhear some amusing and heartwarming conversations when they think I’m not listening. I also witness some serious kid drama; honestly, is there anything cuter than a five-year-old declaring they’re going home because everyone is mean, only to flip and ask if someone wants to ride bikes with her?
While I don’t overly worry about my kids’ safety when they’re out, I feel a sense of security knowing they’re with me. Perhaps it’s a classic “Mama Bear” instinct combined with anxiety and a desire for control. When my kids and half the neighborhood are under my roof, I know they’re playing in an environment free of dangers like unlocked guns or “tricky people” who seem nice but aren’t. I’m more at ease knowing they’re not attempting to cook, cut, or reach for things their little bodies aren’t quite ready for yet.
The only downside of being the neighborhood’s hangout spot (aside from the door constantly swinging open and closed) is keeping my snack supply up to par. I may not have chips ready, but pretzels and Goldfish crackers do the job, along with a steady supply of inexpensive popsicles. Oh, and of course, gum!
The other night, I reached out to a friend and neighbor to confirm it was alright for her child to join us for dinner. She responded that it would be her kid’s second dinner of the evening. The child devoured their meal and then asked for dessert, proving that these kids are living their best lives, one meal and a piece of gum at a time.
And I’m all for it. Literally.
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Summary
Being the house where all the kids gather brings its own unique challenges and joys. While the constant in-and-out traffic can be distracting, the laughter and camaraderie that fill the home outweigh any inconveniences. From keeping up with snacks to enjoying the delightful chaos of children playing, there’s a sense of happiness in being the go-to spot for neighborhood kids.