Tomorrow is the big day and for the first time in her life, Gigi is aware what is going on and what the day will bring. To say she is excited - well that would be an understatement. And bless her, she has asked for only one thing: chocolate. That's my girl. I hope she's not too disappointed when she finds toys under the tree.
We are spending the week with family. The house is full and we are enjoying our time watching Rudolph and Frosty while drinking caesars - which I do believe are each equivalent to one serving of veggies so no scurvy on us this year. BOOYAH, it won't be anything like last year *fingers crossed*.
Gigi, as you may know, is in the full clutches of THREE, which when set to full throttle, means no one or thing is safe. THREE is unpredictable and I prefer to blame any injury (physical or mental) on THREE rather than my precious angel. I know my child is inside the body that THREE occasionally possesses. And when the possession is on, hell hath no fury like a THREE scorned. Contrary and difficult are inadequate adjectives to apply to THREE but they will have to do because I left my thesaurus at home and I'm too lazy to right click. Yes, I'm that lazy.
ANYHOW: we arrived at the family farm yesterday and within a few minutes of running upstairs, Gigi noticed a fold away travel bed in pink, emblazoned with Barbie's face. Anything pink and with Barbie's mug is instantly stamped as hers and this bed was no exception. She insisted it was hers and demanded someone put it together. Being the kind of mom I am, I pretended I didn't hear her - because folks: I know better.
I know that my daughter will not - repeat: WILL NOT - sleep alone in a bed that isn't her bed at home and she will always insist that she sleeps with me when we travel. Always. There could be forty beds in the room and she will only sleep in the same one that contains me. Trust me, I haven't been granted more than six square inches of bed space when travelling with her since she was born. The word vacation does not apply to travel when I'm with my child.
So yes, I knew this bed was not going to be used and I was not about to spend anytime blowing up the air mattress because I hate hyperventilating without getting jiggy. And one does not want to feel randy and in the mood when assembling stuff for the child because she's already been scarred enough by my antics . So no freakin' way was I blowing that damn mattress up.
But she persisted and somehow convinced others to do it and there was going to be a witty end to this post but for the freakin' life of me, I cannot remember it. But I swear to gawd when I wrote this in my head a few hours ago, I laughed and laughed and laughed and then congratulated myself on my wit. I guess I should have written it down then but that gosh diddle darn parenting thing got in the way.
Anyhow, the ending involved something about how THREE has proven to be very unpredictable. And despite this unpredictable sea of confusion-slash-parenting I've been swimming in for just over three years, there are some things I can predict and those things - those comforting predictable things - give me hope, hope that I might just be doing this thing right.
And on that note, I'm wishing everyone who celebrates it, a Merry Merry Christmas and a holy jolly day filled with love and candy. And if you don't celebrate Christmas, I wish you a peaceful day spent with those you love or at least a tub of Ben & Jerry's.