Thursday, December 20, 2012

Mama Confessions #14

Motherhood means giving up things.
Obvious things like... Your flat, smooth, sz 4 tummy. A sleep schedule. Rooms of your house and the back seat of your car to baby stuff.
It is the less obvious things that I wasn't expecting and kind of resent.
Things like... that last delightfully crusty corner of bread that you set on the side of your plate for your last bite... and then your toddler sees it and starts pointing bellowing until you hand it over.
Things like... clean water, as waiters can't seem to get a child's cup to the table at the same time the adult water glasses, and of course the kid must have a drink NOW and doesn't know how to drink without spitting backwash and floaties in your glass.
Things like... all the yummiest bits of chicken from your Chipotle burrito bowl, because you know Dad's not gonna share his, and you are not going to buy a separate burrito just for the kid who only wants the chicken and maybe a few beans...
You have to give up your food.
You hand over choice pieces to chubby hands that will pass it back and forth a few times then often throw it on the floor with a smirk. And you stare at that morsel you were planning on--looking forward to-- consuming now on the floor... and you remind yourself that you are thankful to be a mom.
But really, you wish you could also be thankful for that last bite of delightfully crusty bread in mouth.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Meeting Santa

It's one of those moments, almost a milestone in your child's life. It's Christmastime and the first time they will meet Santa. This meeting can really go one of two ways. Your child will be delighted and coo happily at the jolly man, or they will scream in terror as you try to hand them off quickly enough to snap an awkward photo of them with a strange man in red. While we hope for the former, we prepare for the latter. We knew it could go either way.
We were nearing the front of the line and the three kids in front of us were of the screams of terror variety. Samuel looked on intrigued, giving no hints of what his response would be once his turn arrived.
We stepped up to Santa. Santa smiled. We handed him our baby, and I don't know if I was prepared for what happened next...




Santa made exactly NO impression on our child. Sam studied him for a moment, then stared straight ahead, expressionless, kicking his feet until a picture was taken and we went to collect him.
That was that.

I think I'd have been less disappointed if he had screamed? At least then we'd know where we stand on the Santa issue... This particular experience was... anticlimactic?
Well, until next year, Santa... Merry Christmas!