Twofold sign of a) kiddo having a tremendous lot of fun and b)much-needed mommy-daughter pedi extravaganza. Yikes!!
My Mommy Creed
I hereby solemnly swear:
- My kids will not get the battery-powered SUV that the neighbor kids have. If they are lucky, they will be allowed to ride in the real one. Children need to run and move, not have one more excuse to sit on their bums;
- I will not purchase the tasty and gooey except under rare circumstance: if my kids want food with a half-life greater than most celebrities they will have to buy it themselves or convince Gramma to do so;
- I will not buy a trampoline (mainly to keep the peace) but will let my kids jump on yours. Kids will jump off everything anyway, at least in this case there is the chance they will bounce when they fall;
- If we can afford it and they wish to try it, I will not keep my children from trying brownies, scouts, etc. I don’t want to pass on my 40 year resentments;
- I won’t buy every toy in the world for my kids, knowing the best games come out of their curious minds;
- I will never not hug and kiss my kids, even when they are sticky and gross and wholly unappealing;
- I will make my children try “weird” foods so they don’t lose whole worlds of culinary opportunity;
- I will never stop trying to live up to the title of “mom,” knowing it is a blessing and a privilege and not a right.
Blessings
I dedicate this to the Mamamash and a moment of much-needed perspective.
Happiness and peace be yours as gratitude is mine.
Beluga This!
Sometimes, as a parent, I think my expectations are a little unrealistic – and further, if they weren’t, I’d never leave the house with my children.
In my head, I had a picture of my toddler, mouth agape with joy at her first trip to an aquarium. I had visions of blissful delight as she watched the dolphin show, and imagined the sounds of her chuckles at the antics of penguins.
I shut out the potential for meltdown, tantrums and general disinterest. I opted not to consider her finding the crack on the floor more interesting than the dolphins, or that her piercing scream would echo so stunningly right off the plastic arctic display exhibit from which we had to forcibly extricate her.
But she did really dig the belugas. I think that saved it for me. Because, much like childbirth, at the end of the day, it is focusing on the positives that counts, and keeps us mostly sane.
Well, that and Advil.
The Mischief of Minions 