Thursday, December 23, 2004

Christmas Family Fun Night

In a short break from grading (of course, I looked for ANY break today and spent too much time on the phone with Cousin and Sister-in-Law and, after talking with Cousin, watching Ellen) we met MRM1 and MRM2 downtown for dinner with exhausted-Four-Year-Old. Recently, one grandparent told me that parenting is walking over a cliff every day, facing essentially a black wall, not knowing what's coming next. He said that as a grandparent, he is experiencing parenting again, but without the black-wall effect. Anyway, in retrospect, we should have known that Four-Year-Old was exhausted, and probably not fit for consumption. Certainly not at nice restaurant. In the words of my deceased mother, "My food went down in lumps."

Gulp.

Maggie sit down.

Gulp.

Maggie, sit up.

Gulp.

Maggie, put your legs together. Stop leaning on MRM1! Stop chewing with your mouth open. Stop putting your hands in the butter. Maggie your shirt is in your pizza.

Christ. I'm exhausted now.


I should also know from my single grad-school class in game theory that threatening to call Santa works only once.

It was too freezing for the daily parade that occurs in this kitchy town between Thanksgiving and Christmas to occur, and we decided that the 45 minute wait to see Santa and the corresponding Snow White show at the downtown store was too long.

This is what it will come down to. Not that we're lesbian parents but that we didn't take her to see Santa when she was four.

The Four-Year-Old headed out to my final with me the other day and when one colleague asked her What'd you ask for from Santa? her face went blank.

Santa? Christmas list? I was supposed to send Santa something? I haven't done that yet

Eff college. We need to contribute to her therapy fund not the 529 plan.

At home MRM1&2 gave her her Christmas present. I'm not sure if it was a present for the Four-Year-Old or a torture divice for Biomom and I. It is a set of Disney princess outfits. She pranced around in her exhaustion changing clothes and looking in the mirror.

Note to self: keep the outfits relatively pee-free to send down to Cousin in two years for Cousin's girl.

1 comment:

Dr.Hank said...

I have just begun to make a daily practice of reading other folks postings. I am truly touched by the collective yearning and searching for what might be, albeit in the celestial context of what is. I was thinking of saying something of sorry sorrow, but in truth this is the nature of life and love. It is the gentle ambition for meaning within the pregnancy of significance. It is nothing of sorrow, yet, sorrowful. It is everything of hope. It is what and why we are.