Looking at the things I bought, I felt really compelled to write them down. There's something particular about the presents you get a kid each year of their life, and I feel like this year's crop really captures the essence of what being 5 is all about.
The first box I wrapped contains:
Snoopy t-shirt
Paul Frank 7 pack Days of the Week undies
Hello Kitty hair clips
Aces. I'm really good at buying gifts, probably because I really enjoy it. I'd so much rather watch Adriana open a present than get one myself.
I wrapped some ZhuZhu Pets for my mom, when suddenly Adriana had a night terror. I went into her room and stood over her bed, praying like I always do when that happens. "Dear God, make it stop. Let my daughter know she is loved. Let her stop crying, Lord." Thankfully, it was pretty short and not too intense. The last time she had one, a few months ago, I think, she called out for me and I was standing right next to her. "Mommy! Mommy!" It's much worse on the parent than the child, so I'm told. I sure hope so. There's nothing more heartbreaking than not being able to reassure a child who is literally reaching out for you in a blind stupor of sleep. Well, maybe one thing is worse: having to swallow the bitter pill that if you talk to them or touch them while they're in the midst of terror-ing, you'll only make it worse. Every parent learns that the hard way. If you've stumbled across this post while Googling "night terrors," don't worry. They are very common in pre-schoolers and wane over time. My professional advice? Take some deep breaths and have a drink. It won't make you feel better about the night terror, but it will at least change the subject.
Back to presents:
Folding Llama Llama Holiday Drama and a Curious George matching game up together. I'm so glad Adriana still likes George. As we watched Curious George: A Very Monkey Christmas last night, I felt so at peace being able to still enjoy a remnant of her babyhood. Parenting is such a paradox: we urge our children to grow up and be independent, then we don't understand why they put on adult airs at 10. I want my daughter to learn and grow, but I want her to keep her innocence as long as possible, and to shed it only gradually and when absolutely necessary. When she's 21.
Boxed up some amazing Nick and Nora designer PJs from Target. Flannel, rad owl design in purple/green/orange/gold 70s tones and an unbelievable army green pirate map/ship themed pair. So proud of the non-traditional gifts I picked this year. Just a few, but they make a statement, I think. She's got tons of pink and purple and I'll never stop buying her that stuff, but my kid loves pirates, and I can't wait to watch her go ape shit over these pajamas that are probably meant for boys but oh well.
Just got a nice email from a friend. How sweet. Glass is almost empty as I listen to Sarah McLachlan sing about exactly that. About to wrap some clothes: a purple and grey checked tunic, purple cable-knit hooded zipped cardigan and.... drum-roll please... a grey and hot pink fur-lined shrug. What?! I'm a cool mom, I get it. I may have lost all my own cool, trading it in for cool mom, but I don't think so, actually. I've gotten soooooo much better with age, and certainly with, um, experience (to put it kindly). What I mean is, I like being a single mother. It forces me to be the best version of myself, which is like a low-rent version of people who really know what they're doing.
Which brings me to a point I've been thinking of making here on this public diary to myself: my life is exactly where I want it to be for the first time ever. So enjoy that, me!
Shrug is too thick and needs its own box. Don't know what I'm gonna do cuz I don't have a box! Will wrap purple goods and think on it. Must have another egg nog...
Okay, it's not really egg nog. It's a vanilla Bailey's martini. Except it's not made with Bailey's, it's made with Brady's. Why? Because my family is bootleg, son, and this booze is leftover from Thanksgiving. I've never been the type to keep actual liquor in the house, but I have to say, this holiday treat is hittin' the spot, and has made present-wrapping a lot easier. When I sat down (19 hours ago) to wrap all of these gifts, I felt a little ornery. My iTunes wasn't working (because I've never used it before because I'm a neanderthal who drinks Brady's) and then Sarah McLachlan's calm voice just felt like it was taunting me. "Ooooh, look at me, I'm so relaxed. You have all these presents to wrap with shitty dollar store wrapping paper while I get to just sit here and barf all over the keys..."
Anyway - what about this shrug?! I think I'm gonna look downstairs for a box. Hang on...
HO-OOOOOH! GUESS WHO JUST FOUND A MUTHA FLUFFIN' BOX??????????? And it doesn't even need to be wrapped because it's the kind with a weird fake watercolor painting of Santa on it. What?!
OMG the ice in my drink just snapped in celebration and scared the shit out of me. Okay. Shrug in box. Moving on.
Sarah's singing What Child is This and River, two songs I sang to Adriana tonight at bedtime. Typically she sings with me and then says goodnight, still awake when I leave her room, but for the past two nights she's fallen asleep to the sound of my voice, which is such an honor as a mother. Feeling like you have the power to sing your kid to sleep is pretty amazing, as if it hearkens her back to hearing my voice in the womb or something.
I am such a sentimental idiot. I can't tell you how often I think, "That - among several other excellent reasons - is exactly why someone should be falling head over heels in love with me right now." And yet, and yet... I honestly don't know if I have any interest in love. My relationship with my daughter is the best one I've had so far on this Earth. I'm not so sure I should be looking to supplant it. Not that a boyfriend would do that, you know, I'm just sayin'. Maybe we can only experience one great love at a time. I mean, after all, most people aren't into polyamory for a reason. It's jealousy-inducing, and a man isn't gonna put up with being jealous of my kid, and I would never subject my kid to being jealous of a man in my life. My friend John (who sent me the aforementioned email) wrote a nice blog post about that on Strollerderby recently, about his step-daughter giving him permission to marry her mom. Aww.
Okay - bagged some boots, along with a hat and gloves, stockings, sort of a random bag for Adriana. And now it's stocking stuffing time! Adriana has shown a particular interest in stockings this year, so I decided to get some small things and fill the old stockings my Dad used to hang for us when we were kids. I just remembered that throughout my childhood some of the best presents I ever got were in my stocking - which is the perfect size for a jewelry box. I didn't get Adriana any jewelry this year - she has plenty, and all of it is probably toxic, anyway. Instead, my mother got her some lotion and lip gloss (formerly known as mip mop) and I bought her some gumballs for her gumball machine, some matchbox cars, a Christmas rubber duckie and a teeny bit of candy. The best part is, now my niece is getting a stocking, too!
Making ornaments now. Or, rather, adding photos to the ornaments Adriana and I already made.
Today we finished our Christmas crafting by decorating a Santa that allowed me to teach her an alternate meaning of the word fierce:
Do you see those gems? The glitter? Fierce! Hey Santa - feel free to ask and tell - you've earned it!
Okay, the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care - literally, and almost every gift is wrapped, except the one for my niece. The ornaments are made. Let me wrap this last present and set it in place!
After all that, it sort of looks like nothing in this photo. A few boxes underneath a Charlie Brown tree. But what they represent are joy, hope, self-reliance, love, resilience and a sacred bond that is irreplaceable, between mother and daughter, siblings, aunts and nieces, Grandmother and Granddaughter, cousins, family. You can't really package that.
Merry Christmas to you and yours from me and mines.
XO,
ckc
Today we finished our Christmas crafting by decorating a Santa that allowed me to teach her an alternate meaning of the word fierce:
Do you see those gems? The glitter? Fierce! Hey Santa - feel free to ask and tell - you've earned it!
Okay, the stockings have been hung by the chimney with care - literally, and almost every gift is wrapped, except the one for my niece. The ornaments are made. Let me wrap this last present and set it in place!
After all that, it sort of looks like nothing in this photo. A few boxes underneath a Charlie Brown tree. But what they represent are joy, hope, self-reliance, love, resilience and a sacred bond that is irreplaceable, between mother and daughter, siblings, aunts and nieces, Grandmother and Granddaughter, cousins, family. You can't really package that.
Merry Christmas to you and yours from me and mines.
XO,
ckc
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