Does Santa's Warning Mean Nothing to You?!
Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. The song says so, therefore it must be true. If you have a toddler though, you may feel differently. I sure do, especially after the last few days.
I made this fancy DIY advent calendar this year, with the hope of ensuring we covered all our Christmas bases. You know... drinking hot chocolate after playing in the snow, reading Christmas books, looking at Christmas lights, holding hands and singing Kumbaya. In all seriousness, I wanted the month of December to be perfect for the kids so that they'd have these amazing memories of Christmastime. Today, I'm feeling pretty foolish about that thought process though. I should know better by now. Any time you think something is going to be perfect, you're just asking to be made a fool of.
This weekend, we went to my work Christmas party. We got all dressed up and looked great. We got all the kids dinner before the other 416 people at the party so that they wouldn't get hangry. While eating a delicious plate of Christmas foods, our tweener decided to pout. Why? I don't know. She wouldn't say. The toddler proceeded to run around the ballroom, weaving in and out of tables, nearly knocking over elderly people. Why? Because she's a toddler...who wants to ruin Christmas parties. The kids got free Christmas presents supplied by my employer. AMAZING! Did they appreciate any of this? NOOOOOOOO. On the car ride home, covered in sweat from lugging a 50 pound diaper bag, a 30 pound car seat, a 16 pound baby, and a partridge in a pear tree out to the car I said, "We're not going to the Christmas party next year." And that is a BIG deal for me to say, because there's an open bar!
On Saturday, the advent calendar said we were going to make Christmas cookies together! What a fun thing to do, right?? NOPE. Have you ever tried to make Christmas cookies with a toddler and a tweener? I have, and I wouldn't suggest it. Toddlers want to eat all the things that go into Christmas cookies. EVERY 30 SECONDS. "Mommy, I have a question. Can I eat this half a sprinkle that just fell out of the dog's mouth? No? OK, what about this shmear of butter that's in my hair? Can I lick that off? Really? Still no? Why? Why? Why?" And the tweener, who wants to bake things independently now, gets flour Ev-er-y-where! There is flour in places that I didn't even know existed in the kitchen. I mean, why would you measure flour NEXT to the bowl that you're going to put it in? You should carry it around the island 4 times, into the living room to look at your tablet, and then dump it in the bowl in a big poof of flour fog. That makes total f*ing sense. Also, Mommy has a Type A personality. I want those cookies to look good! So as soon as the kids finally found something to play with for a few minutes, I snuck in the kitchen and decorated all of them myself before they saw me. And before they could RUIN the cookies.
Sunday night ended in a full-blown toddler tantrum about god knows what. The weekend ended in tears. Hers and mine. The weekend that was supposed to be this perfect weekend of family fun. I was so frustrated by the fact that absolutely nothing we'd do would result in a behaving, listening, kind toddler. No discipline tricks made a difference. Telling her that Santa would bring her rocks didn't make a difference, but only resulted in more questions.
I wish I had a happy ending or an important parenting lesson learned to end this blog post with. But I don't. The only thing that's making me feel better is trying to remember this thought that one of my best friends posted on social media the other day... The kids won't remember all this crap. And the tears. They won't remember that Mommy snuck away to decorate the cookies without them. They'll only remember snuggling together and watching Elf and eating a delicious home-made cookie after dinner, and singing Jingle Bells. At least I hope that's all they'll remember. And Mommy? Well, time will tell what I'll remember. Hopefully more of the good than the bad.
This weekend, we went to my work Christmas party. We got all dressed up and looked great. We got all the kids dinner before the other 416 people at the party so that they wouldn't get hangry. While eating a delicious plate of Christmas foods, our tweener decided to pout. Why? I don't know. She wouldn't say. The toddler proceeded to run around the ballroom, weaving in and out of tables, nearly knocking over elderly people. Why? Because she's a toddler...who wants to ruin Christmas parties. The kids got free Christmas presents supplied by my employer. AMAZING! Did they appreciate any of this? NOOOOOOOO. On the car ride home, covered in sweat from lugging a 50 pound diaper bag, a 30 pound car seat, a 16 pound baby, and a partridge in a pear tree out to the car I said, "We're not going to the Christmas party next year." And that is a BIG deal for me to say, because there's an open bar!
On Saturday, the advent calendar said we were going to make Christmas cookies together! What a fun thing to do, right?? NOPE. Have you ever tried to make Christmas cookies with a toddler and a tweener? I have, and I wouldn't suggest it. Toddlers want to eat all the things that go into Christmas cookies. EVERY 30 SECONDS. "Mommy, I have a question. Can I eat this half a sprinkle that just fell out of the dog's mouth? No? OK, what about this shmear of butter that's in my hair? Can I lick that off? Really? Still no? Why? Why? Why?" And the tweener, who wants to bake things independently now, gets flour Ev-er-y-where! There is flour in places that I didn't even know existed in the kitchen. I mean, why would you measure flour NEXT to the bowl that you're going to put it in? You should carry it around the island 4 times, into the living room to look at your tablet, and then dump it in the bowl in a big poof of flour fog. That makes total f*ing sense. Also, Mommy has a Type A personality. I want those cookies to look good! So as soon as the kids finally found something to play with for a few minutes, I snuck in the kitchen and decorated all of them myself before they saw me. And before they could RUIN the cookies.
Sunday night ended in a full-blown toddler tantrum about god knows what. The weekend ended in tears. Hers and mine. The weekend that was supposed to be this perfect weekend of family fun. I was so frustrated by the fact that absolutely nothing we'd do would result in a behaving, listening, kind toddler. No discipline tricks made a difference. Telling her that Santa would bring her rocks didn't make a difference, but only resulted in more questions.
I wish I had a happy ending or an important parenting lesson learned to end this blog post with. But I don't. The only thing that's making me feel better is trying to remember this thought that one of my best friends posted on social media the other day... The kids won't remember all this crap. And the tears. They won't remember that Mommy snuck away to decorate the cookies without them. They'll only remember snuggling together and watching Elf and eating a delicious home-made cookie after dinner, and singing Jingle Bells. At least I hope that's all they'll remember. And Mommy? Well, time will tell what I'll remember. Hopefully more of the good than the bad.
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