I need to post, but if I read one more thing about Thanksgiving....

It's been a while since my last post. Yes, I blame The Holidays.

It's fair to blame anything that happens between about mid-November and mid-January on The Holidays. (Because you are preparing from mid-November and still getting over them until mid-January; what? you aren't? Well I am, so I'm still blaming it the way I see it.)

I could certainly tell you a story about how fun Thanksgiving was (it was), and how all of the nearby (and a couple of the far away) family came to our house this year (12 adults plus Eme), but the cooking was really no problem (it wasn't; thanks for all of the help, family!).

I could also discuss all of the things I'm thankful for (really, too many to count) and what I've done with my blessings this year ("Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving." ~ W. T. Purkiser).

I'm not going to do that. I have been reading about (talking about, thinking about -- you could say devouring) everything Thanksgiving related for the past few weeks, and I'm pretty much done now.

I know, it's Christmas soon so I have to be ready. I know I'm supposed to start decorating, and if we don't have a tree this year I expect some people will really be upset (although, frankly, I don't think Eme will mind; it's the people who think Eme shouldn't be deprived that you have to watch out for).

Truly, it's not that I don't enjoy holidays. I do.

I enjoy time with family. I enjoy sitting around the table and chatting, and seeing people you don't get to see often enough, and feeling that there really IS goodwill in the world.

It's when those things are overshadowed by the present-buying, and the "did-I-get-the-right-gift-for-them"-ing, not to be outdone by the "should-we-really-make-this-much-food-and-what-if-no-one-likes-what-I've-cooked"-ing, and the "my-neighbor's-decorations-look-really-nice-oh-crap-do-I-have-to-go-buy-Christmas-lights"-ing. While we're listing things, I also have trouble with the "if-you-don't-make-me-a-list-you're-getting-coal"-ing, and the "you-HAVE-to-have-a-Christmas-tree!"-ing, and all of the many variations (insert your holiday traditions here) of all of the above.

It is with all of the pressures we put on ourselves (and on our friends and family to fit into our notion of the right way to do things) that the holidays become The Holidays.

Now, please PAY ATTENTION for just a moment before I start getting phone calls and emails from family members asking if I'm talking to THEM and if THEY are the ones I'm talking about putting pressure on me because they certainly don't mean to.

I know.

Every one of us does it to every other one of us without meaning to.

I'm sorry that I wanted mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving last year and forced my sister to make them mashed even though she was planning to do it a different way because mashed is really the only "right" way to have them at Thanksgiving. I mean, if you're me. Or if you're my other sister who whined with me until we got our way.

I'm sorry to anyone who felt that pictures of Eme were a cop-out of a Christmas gift last year. Really, that's all we could come up with.

I'm sorry that I am even writing this right now, because I've got the feeling that even with my admonitions above there will be someone who thinks I'm talking directly to them. I swear to you, I'm not. If you can't see that this is all about me, then you haven't been reading my blog very closely. Everything's about me. Or about Eme.

When it comes down to why I'm publishing this post anyway (even though it makes me sound like a total curmudgeon, and I'm really not like that, am I?), I've only got one thing to say for myself....

I blame The Holidays.

And I love you all!

...

Wonder Baby Wednesday #15

Wonder Baby powers, activate! Form of............ hey, even superheroes need a nap.

As Eme would say: "shhhhhhhhhh. Beebee ni-niiite." (Translated, that means "shh, the baby went night night.")

...

Update: Bobkitty

Since Eme loved the Bobkitty so much (see her "driving" one in Wonder Baby Wednesday #11) Andreas found one that was more Eme's speed at a really cool toy store. It's made by Playmobil.

As you see here, she loves driving this one, too!

...

I have a confession to make...

(Jen at Sprite's Keeper has made this week's Spin about parental confessions, so here's mine:)

I am a "comparer." I compare my child to other children.

Before you say so, I realize that this is not healthy. I try not to do it out loud because I don't want my daughter to learn to do it (because it wouldn't be healthy for her either).

I am a competitive person, and I'm often more judgmental of other people than makes sense in any given situation. Long story short, if I meet your baby, hear about your baby, or read about your baby, I am probably going to compare your baby to mine.

Yes, I'd say Eme is cuter than the Brangelina twins. She certainly has better manners than many of the kids at the library. She's also stronger than many of the kids we meet on the playground. Oops, is that my parental bias talking?

I think everyone does it now and then, and it's not always a bad thing. Sometimes I use other children as benchmarks to determine where Eme should be by a certain age. Other times I learn something from one of her contemporaries that I can try to teach her so that she will have learned it by the given age.

Sometimes it is a bad thing. Sometimes I'm thinking "Eme is so much nicer than that baby," or "Eme knows a lot more words than that baby." It's not meant to be a slight on another child so much as it is meant to make me feel like my baby is the best one.

The dumb part is that I will always, in every circumstance, think my baby is the best one, just as your baby will always be the best baby you've ever met.

As you see, I realize that my comparisons are unnecessary, unjust, and exceptionally biased. The most I can hope for myself is that I manage to keep my opinions inside so I don't alienate those people whose support I'll need on the days when my baby is the one who is not behaving.

...

Wonder Baby Wednesday #14 (Halloween!)

Wonder Baby Powers, activate! Form of....the ladybug who will one day rule the universe!

At least, with a magic wand, you'd think she might be able to rule the universe. If she wants to. Or she might just wave her magic wand and create a nice big bowl of "maccheese" for herself. Yes, that would certainly make her happy.

Also, check out the jazz hand and the silver shoes. Maybe this is the ladybug who will one day star on Broadway?

...

How did I become the mean lady?

You might think you know where I'm going with this, but my daughter still thinks I'm great. I imagine she might think I'm the mean lady some day, but not just yet.

No, it's Eme's little friend who thinks I'm the mean lady.

We had a play date at our house with a new little friend (she's just over 2 years old) the other day. The friend was a little shy at first, since it was all Eme's toys instead of her own and she had never been here before, asking her mommy to do things with her instead of interacting with Eme. This is exactly what Eme does in strange situations (wants me to do activities first so she knows they're okay), so I just smiled and encouraged Eme to keep playing near the friend until she warmed up.

The friend went to dump out the crayons. Her mommy gently said "no, we don't dump." I said that if she wanted to dump, that was okay with me. Eme dumps the crayons all the time.

Look at me, the cool mom who lets toddlers dump stuff!

By this point the friend had become a little bit frustrated and was throwing crayons. Her mommy said "we don't throw crayons!" I thought I was backing the mom up when I looked at the girl and said -- VERY gently, I might add -- "no, sweetheart, no throwing crayons." (Even cool moms have limits.)

The friend burst into tears. She hugged her mommy and wailed "nooooo. nooooooo!" miming throwing something. She wouldn't be consoled by her blanket, or by cuddling, or by distraction.

Here we were, ten minutes into the play date, and I had done something that made her so upset that she actually told her mommy she wanted to go home and attempted to open the front door to leave.

So much for being the cool mommy. All of a sudden I was the mean lady who chastises poor, defenseless little girls.

After a while her mommy managed to calm her down, and the friend even warmed up to me a little bit later when we played catch with a tennis ball (yes, I let her throw a ball in the house; I have a strong need for affirmation, so I couldn't go around letting her think I was uncool).

It felt so strange, though, to be the one that the friend thought was mean. I'm so used to my baby thinking I'm the best, calling for mommy when she's upset, and only willing to be consoled by me, that this came as a little bit of a shock. In fact, I wondered if it's how other people feel when my baby is upset and I'm the only one who can console her....

I don't like being the mean lady, even if it was by accident and temporary.

...