OMG! These Kids!

                                   
This morning, I was awoken by my nine year old asking me 100 questions. I opened my eyes and she was two feet in front of me. "Mom, do you know what the weather is going to be today? Have you seen my book? Can we go get a Christmas outfit today?" Oh my God. "I don't know, I haven't, lets talk about it later, take a shower." She frowned at me but disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower. I closed my eyes in the hope of getting 10 more minutes of sleep. Two minutes later, my sleep was interrupted by this sound:

Holy crap! My 11 year old set her alarm to the imperial march and it's not a pleasant sound to wake up to. It's actually quite alarming and makes me feel like I am about to be killed. Darth Vader never showed up but my 11 year old crawled into bed with me. "Mom, I need to get a gift for A, J, and E-man. Don't forget that we need to go get pencil tonight and you need to get all the stuff to make cupcakes for the Christmas party."

Ugggghhhh. Don't tell me this crap before I have a cup of coffee in the morning. They should know this by now. I dragged my butt out of bed and went downstairs to make breakfast. My youngest made her way down and petitioned me to buy her an outfit.

"I was thinking for Friday, we could go get a green shirt, red skirt, and shoes will bells on them. Like elf shoes."

"I am not buying you a new outfit that you are only going to wear once."

"Please mom. I have to. All of my friends are going to do it."

She whined and moaned until I gave in. On the condition that we go to Once Upon a Child. She agreed. 

This evening, we got home, I made dinner and then we got ready to venture out. It was 6 pm and pitch dark. It felt like 9 pm. I did not want to go out. As we were getting ready to go, my 11 year old said: "Mom, we have to go get Star Wars tee-shirts."

"Why?"

"Because we are going to the movie tomorrow night and we need to represent."

They are going to the movie tomorrow night. My husband purchased opening night tickets to Star Wars in September. IMAX 3-D expensive-ass  movie tickets. The movie starts at 10:00 pm on a school night.

I did not agree with it. "Dude, they have to go to school the next day."

"It's the last day before Christmas break. They won't be learning anything. We can just send them to school in their sweat pants."

"Seriously? You couldn't just go see it on Saturday?"

He looked at me like I had 3 heads. "This is like a historic event. It cannot wait until Saturday. The kids need to experience this."

I can't believe that I am going to allow this. Bad Mom Award.

Anyway, we went to Once Upon a Child to get this damn outfit. My daughter picked out her clothes and went into the dressing room. There were 2 benches by the dressing room and my oldest daughter sat down. I joined her a moment later and as soon as my bottom touched the bench, she stood up and moved to the other bench. 

God forbid she be seen sitting next to her MOTHER in PUBLIC. That would just be unacceptable. I sat alone on the bench and before long a young mother walked by. She was holding a baby in one arm and pushing her cart with the other. She had a young child who she situated in the dressing room. Then she sat down next to me.

Her baby was so cute, she had such big eyes. The mom asked the baby, "Are you going to let me put you down?" as she set the baby in the cart. The baby began to cry. She picked the baby up and the baby was silent. She tried to put the baby in the cart again and she cried again. She picked the baby up and the baby was instantly silent. 

The mother let out a long, resigned sigh. The baby must be held. There was no other option. "Oh man. I had two of those," I commented to her. Boy - did I. My kids never tolerated being put down. They pretty much were strapped to my body the first two years of life. They didn't even like my husband to hold them. The struggle is real.

She turned to me. "Really?" I nodded. "If it's any consolation, there will be a point in time where she won't even want to be around you. That's my daughter over there. She won't even sit next to me." I motioned to her on the other bench. She was sitting there like:

What a B.

She held her baby over her shoulder and just vented. "I don't get it. My son wasn't like this. She always wants to be held. She always wants me. She's 8 months old and she sleeps in my bed. It's the only way I can get any sleep. I'm still breastfeeding and my family thinks I'm crazy. It's just so hard!"

That's a lot to tell a stranger, but whatever. I didn't know what to tell her. I'm not a good advice giver. She wasn't really even asking for advice. "One day, you'll look back and you won't regret any time you spent holding your baby. She won't sleep in your bed forever. You are giving the baby the best you can. It get's better, I promise."

It does get better, but Lord knows - it doesn't get easier. My 9 year old exited the dressing room then and I got up to leave. "You're a good mom. Merry Christmas!" I said to her before I left.

When your children are babies and very young children life is so hard. Every day is a lesson in survival. When you are in it, you feel like you will always be in it. When the days turn to weeks that turn to months without adequate sleep, massive pre-planning to leave the house EVERY TIME, a crying kid on your hip, cheerios ground into the carpet, ect.... you just feel like your life will never be normal again. 

Then one day you wake up and your children are as tall as you are and spend more time avoiding you ever thought possible and you reminisce about the days you wasted with a baby napping on your chest.

They get older, and it gets easier. But not too much easier. I was reminded of this at our next stop. We went to AC Moore to get bells so I could make the damn elf shoes. My kids for some reason were having an argument. Loudly. In public. I don't even know what they were fighting about.

"You're stupid."

"Well, you're ugly."

"I hate you."

I turned around and save them the mean mom whisper. "Shut your mouths now. Both of you."

They had to keep going. "She started it." 

"No, you started it."

"No, you did. Jerk."

Finally, I yelled at them - in public. "You're both horrible. Shut your mouths and separate NOW or you are going to regret it!"

This lady in the aisle looked at me like: You shouldn't call your kids horrible.

What she didn't know is that I wanted to call them a-holes. I stand by my statement. I love them, but they have the tendency to be horrible at times.

We went to check out and they stood behind me with their arms crossed, giving each other mean looks. Tis the season to be jolly.