S**tShow2018
As the year is coming to a close and the chaos of the Christmas season has been put to bed for another year, I have a moment to reflect. This reflection is why I have labeled this year's Christmas ShitShow2018.
You know, all year I've wanted to be the mom who did the things. You know the ones: cute outfits that commemorate each holiday, present at all community events, toting around their adorable minis like porcelian dolls removed from their dust-proof boxes to be passed around and oooohhhhhed and aaaaahhhhhhed at. I kept up alright. I got the Halloween costume. I got the 'gobble gobble' bib. But, man oh man, I was not prepared for the soul-sucking festivities of the Christmas season! I wanted to do all the firsts: first Christmas portraits, first Santa photo, first family Christmas, first Christmas morning, first gift-opening and I wanted to commemorate it all! Here's how that worked out:
I do my daughter's portraits myself. Every month I dress her up, get out some props and start snap, snap, snapping away. I coo at her. I call. I sing. I do whatever it takes to get a smile and then I sit and edit, crop and adjust so that there are these perfect little moments to look back on when she's 16 and hates me. They take me a month to get motivated to do but they always get done. However, I was not prepared for the on-taking of Christmas portraits. We ventured out of the house into the festive neighborhood for portraits. At first it was fine and dandy. She was digging it. And then she fell down the stairs at one of the locations. After that, every time I pulled out the camera she looked at me with a mix of disgust and betrayal. I ended up deleting most of the photos because her heartbroken expression made me want to cry. Not exactly the emotion you want evoked when thinking of a child's first Christmas. Mom fail number 1.
Then came the Santa photo. Oh the joys of the mall ... at Christmastime ... on a Saturday. Thank God for my mom who made an appointment with Santa (who knew he took reservations) and we were able to skip the hours of waiting in line and wait, instead, a mere 20 minutes. I had bought Lola an adorable little outfit with a matching headband and sparkly little shoes for the event. The dress was layered and glittered and looked amazing ... when the harsh material was sticking to every other surface and knotting up into a sparkling, green mess. The shoes were continuously unlatched and taken off or kicked off and brought back to me by strangers who stammered, "Ummm. You might want this." And the headband. Oh the headband! When she allowed me to put it on her head (mostly I carried it around in my hand), her poor oddly-shaped, lopsided skull wouldn't allow it to stay and it ended up flopping down over her eyes and becoming a fashionable, futuristic-looking pair of sunglasses. When this happened, she would jerk it off and throw it on the ground in the middle of the mall and when I would go to pick it up, she would flop sideways in my arms and the diaper bag and its contents would topple off my shoulder and onto the mall floor. Thinking back, all I can do is shake my head. Mom fail number 2.
So, the portraits got taken and edited. The appointment with Santa was met and commemorated with a photo and a book. Then came the family holidays. First of all, all you parents know, it is a nightmare to travel with a child. They require so much STUFF, like little celebrities who must have their favorite drinks and chairs and toys to properly show up and show off. Then, my car broke down so Grandmother had to be chauffeur for a week-long trip home for the holidays. So, we went, we visited, we saw. And the day before the family was to gather for gifts and food, Lola and I both came down with a terrible allergy/sinus infection that had us fussy and whiny (and I do mean US). So, we showed up to Christmas coughing, sneezing, wheezing; just two cranky snot-faces. Lola slept through most of the event so we forewent family photos and bailed within a few hours to head back to Dallas. I blame this on Mother Nature but I'm going to call it Mom fail number 3.
Upon returning to Dallas, I had to return to work. I showed up running fever and seeing double. I had to leave Lola with my sweet friend who agreed to babysit and my poor sick child was kind enough to share her funk. Such a thoughtful little angel! So, when Christmas morning came, we had a gathering full of stuffy-nosed adults barely awake or able to function watching kids tear through gifts through blurry eyes and boxes of Kleenex piled at every seat. People always say the joy of Christmas morning is watching the happiness in their children as they open their gifts. As a new mom, I can totally see this. I love giving gifts to those I love and I love no one as much as I do my daughter. Having said that, also as a new mom, I have a child whose only interest was in eating the paper and plastic pieces left on the floor from opened gifts. All I saw was choking hazards everywhere! And every piece of tissue paper or broken zip tie I took from her hand was met with a wail. Merry Christmas to me! I'm not sure watching out for my child's safety is a fail but I'll call it Mom fail number 4.
So, in reflection, what do I think of Lola's first Christmas? I think I'm tired. Months of preparation led to exhaustion that was resulted from all the fussing, wailing and looks of betrayal from my ten-month-old. But, you know what? For every mom fail, there were moments where she had looks of elation as she watched the world around her hustle and bustle. She was in awe of the carolers at the mall decked out in old-style, traditional caroler costumes. She couldn't stop staring at Santa's white beard. She was held and loved on by so many people who show her nothing but joy and happiness each time she is around. And, despite the mom exhaustion I haven't quite recovered from (and the red nose and cough that still linger), I feel so blessed that my daughter, whom I am raising alone, could experience such awe and feel such love during such a hectic, mom-fail-filled season. And I wouldn't trade it for one holiday that came before Lola. Every smile was worth every moment where I just wanted to be on a deserted island with a mai-tai and absolutely nothing else.
You know, all year I've wanted to be the mom who did the things. You know the ones: cute outfits that commemorate each holiday, present at all community events, toting around their adorable minis like porcelian dolls removed from their dust-proof boxes to be passed around and oooohhhhhed and aaaaahhhhhhed at. I kept up alright. I got the Halloween costume. I got the 'gobble gobble' bib. But, man oh man, I was not prepared for the soul-sucking festivities of the Christmas season! I wanted to do all the firsts: first Christmas portraits, first Santa photo, first family Christmas, first Christmas morning, first gift-opening and I wanted to commemorate it all! Here's how that worked out:
I do my daughter's portraits myself. Every month I dress her up, get out some props and start snap, snap, snapping away. I coo at her. I call. I sing. I do whatever it takes to get a smile and then I sit and edit, crop and adjust so that there are these perfect little moments to look back on when she's 16 and hates me. They take me a month to get motivated to do but they always get done. However, I was not prepared for the on-taking of Christmas portraits. We ventured out of the house into the festive neighborhood for portraits. At first it was fine and dandy. She was digging it. And then she fell down the stairs at one of the locations. After that, every time I pulled out the camera she looked at me with a mix of disgust and betrayal. I ended up deleting most of the photos because her heartbroken expression made me want to cry. Not exactly the emotion you want evoked when thinking of a child's first Christmas. Mom fail number 1.
Then came the Santa photo. Oh the joys of the mall ... at Christmastime ... on a Saturday. Thank God for my mom who made an appointment with Santa (who knew he took reservations) and we were able to skip the hours of waiting in line and wait, instead, a mere 20 minutes. I had bought Lola an adorable little outfit with a matching headband and sparkly little shoes for the event. The dress was layered and glittered and looked amazing ... when the harsh material was sticking to every other surface and knotting up into a sparkling, green mess. The shoes were continuously unlatched and taken off or kicked off and brought back to me by strangers who stammered, "Ummm. You might want this." And the headband. Oh the headband! When she allowed me to put it on her head (mostly I carried it around in my hand), her poor oddly-shaped, lopsided skull wouldn't allow it to stay and it ended up flopping down over her eyes and becoming a fashionable, futuristic-looking pair of sunglasses. When this happened, she would jerk it off and throw it on the ground in the middle of the mall and when I would go to pick it up, she would flop sideways in my arms and the diaper bag and its contents would topple off my shoulder and onto the mall floor. Thinking back, all I can do is shake my head. Mom fail number 2.
So, the portraits got taken and edited. The appointment with Santa was met and commemorated with a photo and a book. Then came the family holidays. First of all, all you parents know, it is a nightmare to travel with a child. They require so much STUFF, like little celebrities who must have their favorite drinks and chairs and toys to properly show up and show off. Then, my car broke down so Grandmother had to be chauffeur for a week-long trip home for the holidays. So, we went, we visited, we saw. And the day before the family was to gather for gifts and food, Lola and I both came down with a terrible allergy/sinus infection that had us fussy and whiny (and I do mean US). So, we showed up to Christmas coughing, sneezing, wheezing; just two cranky snot-faces. Lola slept through most of the event so we forewent family photos and bailed within a few hours to head back to Dallas. I blame this on Mother Nature but I'm going to call it Mom fail number 3.
Upon returning to Dallas, I had to return to work. I showed up running fever and seeing double. I had to leave Lola with my sweet friend who agreed to babysit and my poor sick child was kind enough to share her funk. Such a thoughtful little angel! So, when Christmas morning came, we had a gathering full of stuffy-nosed adults barely awake or able to function watching kids tear through gifts through blurry eyes and boxes of Kleenex piled at every seat. People always say the joy of Christmas morning is watching the happiness in their children as they open their gifts. As a new mom, I can totally see this. I love giving gifts to those I love and I love no one as much as I do my daughter. Having said that, also as a new mom, I have a child whose only interest was in eating the paper and plastic pieces left on the floor from opened gifts. All I saw was choking hazards everywhere! And every piece of tissue paper or broken zip tie I took from her hand was met with a wail. Merry Christmas to me! I'm not sure watching out for my child's safety is a fail but I'll call it Mom fail number 4.
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