I spend a lot of time telling people how hard it is to raise kids. My gushing comes in the form of pictures on Instagram and Facebook. I don’t spend enough time telling the stories behind the pictures. Like the other day when Harper said, “What’s up chicken butt?”
Or how she constantly reminds me to “keep my panties dry.”
I’m going to leave that one alone.
When they are amazing, they are just that: amazing.
So it’s Christmastime, and it’s beginning to look a lot like we made the right decision to have kids. Harper is now 2.5 and fully understands what it means to get a present. When Reagan was born she got a lot of “big sister presents”, and ever since then not a day goes by where she doesn’t say, “Mommy, I want a present.”
I’ve been explaining that it’s almost Christmas, and Santa will bring presents if she’s good.
Me: “What should I tell Santa you want for a present?”
Me: “Pink what?”
In my head: Thank God she didn’t say iPad.
So last night Laef and I went shopping to
Toys R Us hell, and before we left we told Harper we had a meeting with Santa and that we’d relay all of the information that we had gathered from our Elf, Buddy. (Sidenote: Do not ever shop at Toys R Us for any reason ever. There are perfectly good toys that can be purchased online without watching little Johnny flip out because he can’t get a Furby. Which, by the way, WHY DO YOU EVEN WANT THAT? It is the ugliest, most stupid toy ever. AND, it’s $50???. Which reminds me of the time I wanted a Cabbage Patch Doll, but since my mom wasn’t willing to get trampled to get one, I was out of luck. I thought I was going to die because everyone else had one. Looking back, that’s the only reason I wanted one, and why they cost $150. My Nana finally sent me one, but I was pissed because I wanted a bald one, so within two days I cut the braids. Which didn’t make her bald at all. It made her look like John Travolta – just little pieces of hair coming out of plugs all over her head. The must-haves are different in 2013, but it’s all still a racket, and after listening to Johnny for 5 minutes, I told Laef it was time to go home).
And speaking of the Elf. I was against the Elf on the Shelf bullshit because, quite frankly, when I am laying in bed at night about to fall asleep there are a list of things that get me out of bed:
1. The Cat. I either forgot to feed him or forgot to open the back door so he can get to the litter box.
2. The Cat. He took a shit outside my door because I forgot to open the back door so he can get to the litter box, and he was probably holding it for two days.
3. Laef. Apparently the TV must be at volume 32 while watching Tosh.0
4. I forgot to take out my contacts.
5. I forgot to brush my teeth.
6. THE FUCKING ELF. I FORGOT TO MOVE THE ELF.
Harper is not even three years old, and yet, you can not slip anything by her. Every morning the first thing she does is look for Buddy. She knows he should not be in the same place, and she looks all over. The excitement on her face when she finds him is immeasurable.
The Elf – Buddy – has also provided a new way of bribing her that doesn’t involve sugar or chocolate. If we want Harper to eat her dinner, we simply tell her that Buddy is watching. If we want her to stop whining, we tell her that Buddy is going to tell Santa. To which she says:
“Mommy, I’m not naughty. I’m nice.”
And then she walks over to Buddy and spends 2 minutes convincing him how good she is, and how her panties are dry (going to the bathroom in the toilet is a very big deal in our house), she ate her eggs and she listened to Daddy.
Watching all of these things unfold is parenthood gold. It’s what I envisioned when I thought about having kids. I have been collecting ornaments and Christmas decorations for the past 4 years all for what we are experiencing this year – our first real holiday as a family where the excitement of it is written all over Harper’s face.
Every morning I go into our closest and see bags of gifts on the top shelf hidden away. And every morning I think, “How did time go so fast? How is it that just yesterday I was sneaking into my mom’s closet trying to find my gifts, and now I’m the parent who is hiding gifts?”
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.