How far does it go? How did our parents pull it off for as long as they did? This is a hard lie to live.
It's fairly simple for the first two years of life. Heck, they can be right there as you load up the shopping cart with tons of toys/stuff that "Santa" is supposed to bring them. They just sit there in their car seat buckets drooling or snoozing or, if they're older, happily playing with that distraction toy/snack you brought with you. They are none the wiser. Then, they become aware. Very. Very. Aware.
Things change big time. You now have to plan how you will divide and conquer the shopping while they are with you in the store. A strategic placement of a coat or purse is necessary. One parent must divert the child's attention as the other loads up the cart or checks out. Sure, one of you can go by yourself and knock it out easily but sometimes we're just out together and it's convenient. Well, sort of.
As if buying these presents that "Santa" is supposedly making with his elves up at the North Pole isn't deceitful enough, we go and make it even more of a lie.
- "Those are "Santa's" helpers at the mall. You tell them what you want and then they let "Santa" know."
- "'Santa' is watching you." (Sure, I guess technically, we are watching but it just doesn't have the same impact on them if I say "Mommy is watching you." They're like so?)
- "Better be good or "Santa" will only bring you a lump of coal." (Like I'm really going to only give the kids lumps of coal - besides, I don't even know where to find a lump.)
As I continue this charade, I've run into a few questions/quandaries:
- How do you explain to kids why you need to remember those who are less fortunate by getting gifts for them too - why wouldn't Santa just deliver them gifts too? He seems like a pretty nice guy. I really don't think he wouldn't get little Johnny a gift just because his mommy and daddy don't make that much money.
- Do kids really not notice that some things have price tags on it. Santa's workshop needs to make a buck too I guess.
- I'm pretty sure Nia would notice that a few of her presents have the Best Buy logo on them. Maybe Santa ran out of that movie he made and needed to swing buy the store to get more?
- You even gotta remember to hide the wrapping paper. Andrew caught that one. He bought some on the sly and hid it so that all the "Santa" delivered gifts would be wrapped in that special paper. The one problem with it is that I really can't use the leftovers. I know Nia would notice. What would I say then? Oh, Santa left me some extra paper. Right, cause I got connections with Mr. Claus like that.
- I'm pretty sure it's not a good idea to pretend that you are Santa on the phone. Andrew thought he was doing a good thing. Nate really wanted to tell Santa something so Andrew went outside and I called his cell. He disquised his voice really well - Nate bought it but not Nia. When Andrew walked back into the room, Nia said, "Was that you daddy? It was you with a silly voice." Andrew and I had to hide our faces and flat out lied. No! Why would daddy do that?
It's all meant to make cherished memories, right?
Barbie. Check
Pink Nintendo DS. Check.
Games (including the one with the princess) to go with the DS. Check.
High School Musical DVD. Reluctant, but check.
A few books, other Barbie doo-dahs and princess thing-a-ma-jigs. Check.
I thought we were covered. Sure, she'll see a commercial or a picture of a toy and tell us she wants it for Christmas, but we knew we could get away with skipping those "I wants."
Then, the kids visited this guy -
Of course she tells him she wants something we haven't purchased. Something she's never even mentioned to us. "A Tinkerbell doll with wings that flap."
What? The official request to Mr. Claus would be just fine if we weren't already over-budget on Nia's presents.
It looks like we'll be trading in one want for another. After all, that want wasn't directly delivered to The Man.
At least we got Nate's request right. "A Thomas that goes chugga-chugga, peeeep-peeeeeep!"
He's asked us for that exact thing two or three times a day for the past week. Almost to verify that he will indeed be getting the "Thomas that goes chugga-chugga, peeeep-peeeeeep!"
Boy am I relieved that it is currently hiding out in a closet.
My drive to and from work should stink. It's 45 miles away and it takes me anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half to make the trip - one way. It's usually bumper to bumper, gas and brake and then gas and really brake the whole way. Sometimes, I'm just stopped. My car, stuck in the midst of four to six lanes of traffic, backed up for miles.
So, why doesn't this suck? Part of the reason is because I like heading toward my destinations. I look forward to being at work and I look forward to being with the fam.
The other reason my drive doesn't stink is magical and involves my CD player, the library and the ability to be taken to another world, while still paying attention to the road. (Although I have missed a few of my turns from time to time.)
In the last month, I've listened to five audio books. Right now, The Secret Life of Bees is calling my name and I can't wait until tomorrow morning when I'll start my car and the CD will pick up where it left off. I'm not just listening to fiction either. I've been educated by Barack Obama, Bill Clinton and some guy telling me about The Millionaire Next Door.
I love my books on CD! My virtual library book bag is growing by the day and I'm shuffling through discs. Even Andrew is putting requests in for books. His all involve the deep stuff - politics, history and opinion. My next one is much lighter - Marley and Me. I'm sure it will make me laugh and cry and look like a total lunatic to the drivers stuck in the horrible traffic with me. Their drive must stink.
She is just a little more than five miles away from her sister's house when the beyond-bald tires on her beat up, old mini-van decide they couldn't carry her family anymore. The tires, like her, are worn out. Sharing the load of moving from Michigan to Georgia - they both have been pushed to their limits.
"Now this? Now this is going to happen?" she thinks as she looks for a safe place to pull over. The tire blew out a few seconds ago but she tries to keep pressing on - like she's been doing since they first started struggling.
Her four young children are both frightened and interested in what's happening. Two started to cry. The other two ask non-stop questions. She feels the same way - plus - helpless. She doesn't know how to change a tire - she can't afford a tow truck - isn't a member of AAA.
Then, she hears a voice, offering to help.
Within minutes, he has her van up on the jack and the tire off but he can't get the spare out of the trunk. He thinks about giving her his but it doesn't fit. Instead, he calls AAA and explains the situation.
The children would have to wait almost an hour. When he offers to drive her and the children to her sister's house so they don't have to be the situation any longer, she was a little nervous to accept but he didn't give her any reason to doubt his kindness, plus, he had two child car seats in the back - he must be ok.
She's so overcome with gratitude and emotion that she can't believe that she told him, "Of course you're married! All the good ones are taken!"
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He thinks he's just stuck behind yet another driver going way below the speed limit on the two lane road to his work. He feels bad when he sees the old mini-van cautiously pull over to the side.
He knows he has to be at work, but something in him compels him to make sure people are ok.
Little does he know, this is going to be so much more than a tire change. When he sees the four children, he immediately thinks of his own wife and kids and - what if. What if they were stranded on the side of a busy road with no one to call for help? He has to do what he can to get them out of this situation.
He doesn't think it's going to be hard to do. He just has to change a tire -something he's done more times than he can remember. But this time is a little different. The van's emergency brake doesn't work and (for mechanical reasons the writer doesn't grasp) the mom has to stay in the van with her foot on the brake. He finally gets the van on the jack but then he can't free the spare from its compartment.
Knowing he can't leave them like that, he calls AAA for a tow truck. They tell him he will have to be there when the driver arrives in order for her to get the tow without a charge. He knows it will take about an hour for the tow truck driver to show up so he offers to drive the family where they are headed. He worries about how the four children will safely fit in his small backseat but rationalizes it would be more dangerous for them to be where they are now.
In the end, the family safely reaches their destination and the Knight in Starched (and now slightly dirty) Khakis makes it to work. He knows the family still has to figure out how they will pay for the van's repairs, but he hopes that he helped take a little of the burden off their shoulders - at least for one morning.
(To spare some of you from the more graphic scar picture, I didn't post it on the this blog. If, however, you want to see his boo-boo, click here.)
I guess I would be in the second quarter of my years. Happiness would be winning over anything else I've experienced in life and I would have a penalty for that one time I jumped out of a moving car. Right now though, I'm calling a time out to review some years gone by.
The last time I spent a Friday night at a high school football stadium, I was in high school. That's why I was excited to go catch our local teams compete last night.
I loved the atmosphere, the game, the bands, the people watching and the smell of all of that football stadium food. I really had a blast and the kids loved it too. It brought back so many memories and feelings, but also added a new feeling - my youth is gone. I got that feeling when I saw all those teeny-boppers in their cutesy little outfits - their only care being who they're going to hook up with that night or did they see/talk to so and so.
They are just so young.
What really put it in perspective for me is when I saw a woman, probably in her mid-30's, surrounded by a bunch of teen girls. The woman was attractive and, I thought, stylish but she seemed to be intimidated and was definitely uncomfortable suddenly face to face with all that youth. I wondered what she was thinking. She tried to keep a look of confidence on her face but I could see the thoughts going through her mind. "Girls, you don't have anything on me. Been there, done that - way before you." It made me realize how precious our time is. Before they know it, those girls will soon become us. After all, many of us were once them.
It's not that I'm jealous of them or want to go back to that time, it just made me nostalgic and well, basically, feel old. I know I'm still "young" by many standards but I'm certainly not young enough to:
- Paint all of the skin visible outside my skimpy shorts and tank top, (That's another "I'm old" indicator - when I was their age, I would never have considered them "skimpy" shorts.)
- Act crazy even when I'm just standing in a group of people. (Well, I guess I still do this,)
- Walk around with my chest out, trying to portray all the confidence in the world. (My posture is getting worse and worse, Osteoporosis? I drink my milk!)
- Chill in the Student Section of the stadium. (Man, were we like that?)
- Not care where I sit, stand, stop, walk. Being oblivious seems a lot less stressful.
The other feeling I had that made me aware of my age - the fact that I was worried that the players would get hurt. I'm such a mom! This one play had five guys tackle one guy and I said, "Oh my! Did they really need to be that rough?" Andrew's response? "It's tackle football!" Man, I hate to see what I'm going to be like if Nate plays! I'll be an even older mom then!
The following comments all come with a hint of snootiness from Stay-At-Home Moms I've come to know around town. They make it pretty clear that I'm no longer in their "club."
"Oh, you're putting the kids in child care?"
"I guess you just have to do what you have to do."
"That drive is awful. I hated it and my kids were always so exhausted when I picked them up from day care."
"You're thinking about that day care? I've heard some unsettling things about that day care." (FYI - We didn't pick that day care.)
"My daughter didn't like that After-School program."
"You are going to hate it when it rains. The drive is even worse when it rains."
"You're going to leave for work that early?"
"You're going to get killed on gas prices."
"Well, if you say it's worth it."
"You have to drive how far every day?"
"Wow. That's going to be a really long day for your kids."
"I'm sure you are going to miss all that quality time you get to spend with Nate."
As if I didn't feel bad/guilty/unsure enough about going back to work. Thanks for pointing out the obvious and for the support. It would be different if they said what they said because they were genuinely concerned. They aren't. They say it as they look down their nose at me. I try to tell myself that they would do the same thing if they were in our position and given this opportunity. Of course, I'm sure they would disagree.
We thought we'd encounter the most interesting sights during our trip to Georgia's "largest flea market," not on our way there.
At first, we drove past a few of them here and there and then it seemed as if they had taken over the small city of Hoschton, Georgia.
One of our nieces is turning 13 in a week and like many youngens these days, she has to have clothes from a store called Hollister.
I had an idea that it was similar to Abercrombie and Fitch but never had the need/desire to check it out for myself. Now I know why. Man, do I feel old.
I've never felt my age before. I know there are things I'm not supposed to do now that I'm 30 and a mom.
- I'm not supposed to shop in the junior section at department stores.
- I'm not supposed to say things like "Miley Cyrus is cool" or "I totally love 'High School Musical!'"
- I'm not supposed to want and purchase the hot pink cell phone.
- I cannot eat 10 piece Chicken McNuggets and the biggest Fry, never workout and still fit into my awesome size 6 GAP jeans.
- I'm not supposed to push a stroller in any Hollister store.
Typically, gift cards are decorated pretty simply. A solid color, the words, "A Gift for You!" written on it and some cutesy design.
Not at this store. They were all covered with half-naked hot guys and gals. Totally fine for anyone who is not the child I'm getting the gift card for. I even asked the teen behind the counter, "Do you have one that's ok for a little girl?" She freakin' hands me one of a shirtless man and a girl looking all seductive into the camera. Again, fine for anyone who is not my niece!
My friend Julie was with me and she suggested drawing a shirt on the guy! Could you even imagine how embarrassed my poor niece would be when she goes to pay with a gift card that her aunt censored? How uncool is that?!
How unbelievable is that? I'm still in shock that those words came out of Nia's professionally cleaned mouth. I'm just so amazed about how awesome she was on her first trip to the dentist. She just hopped right up in the chair, laid back and watched some "Sesame Street" while the hygienist poked her tiny little teeth with those pointy silver tools. I mean, those tools are pretty scary looking to me, but Nia was like, "Whatever, I'm watching Elmo."
It made me wonder if she will forever associate "Sesame Street" with the dentist like I will forever associate Pierogies with "The Neverending Story." I was watching the Rockbiter eat rocks during the first time I ever tried Pierogies and I thought, "I wonder if rocks taste like this?" I still think about that memory every time we pig out on Pierogies. Maybe Nia will always think about Ernie chillin' in his tub singing "Rubber Ducky" when she thinks about going to the dentist. That's a heck of a lot better than remembering the way the toothpaste tastes or how awkward it is to have the x-rays taken. Man, I wish they had televisions in there when we were kids.
