For some reason, I still get excited about upcoming holidays, even though they pretty much always suck, at least a good portion of them. I anticipate what the day is going to look like even though IT HAS NEVER ONCE ACTUALLY LOOKED LIKE THAT.
There is a big, scary disconnect between what I imagine and what actually happens. Always is.
And yet, it surprises me every time.
Take Easter for example. Here’s how it went in my head:
I wake to the sweet sound of the kids in my bed, “Mama! Daddy! It’s Easter!” I feel energized and blessed.
We all hop out of bed (haha, “hop”, get it? like the Easter bunny?) and run into the kitchen, where we see three beautiful baskets of small, fair trade wooden toys I bought the week before, along with some raw organic chocolate.
I take pictures as my kids open their baskets, basking in the joy that is family life.
We eat a nutritious breakfast as a family.
We dye eggs together, laughing and playing.
Everybody takes a bath and gets dressed in their Easter outfits, anticipating the arrival of relatives and the trip to Grandma’s house.
My family arrives and we all stare at the beautiful dressed-up kids, taking pictures happily in the front yard and smiling.
We do a little egg hunt in the yard, the kids skipping around with their baskets in the sun. I take pictures.
Finally, we all pile in the car with grins and giggles to cruise over to Grandma’s house, where we will eat lamb and ham and 75 desserts.
The ONLY PART of that that actually happened was the last part of the last sentence.
Check it out. Here’s how it happened in reality:
I wake to sound of Georgia yelling “mama,” glance at the time and say “holy mother of god.” I bang on Mac and demand he get up, realizing almost immediately, of course, that that ain’t gonna work, cause all three of them are up. I feel like I’d rather saw off my left arm than get out of bed. I remember: “Fuck, it’s Easter,” which means I must behave, so I pretend I’m happy and I get up.
I roll out of bed in a confused haze and stumble into the kitchen, where we see three beautiful baskets of fifty-five different types of candy from Target and a few crap toys made in China. I didn’t have time to order the little wooden wonders I had in mind, nor did I have time to get the raw organic chocolate from the co-op, so I filled the baskets with stuff from Target, at 1am Easter morning.
I try to find my camera but can’t, so I just watch them carefully opening their baskets but mostly focus on making coffee.
They eat Fun-dip for breakfast. We eat eggs and toast. Georgia starts assaulting everybody’s baskets, diving for choke-able chocolate items and making the other kids squeal.
I find my camera and begin the photographic mission from hell, which will continue all morning. “Kids. Sit together. Let’s take a picture with your baskets.” They ignore me. I get louder. “KIDS, NOW!” They all sit together but one of them is looking away at any given moment.
Suddenly in a moment of terror I realize my family is coming over in approximately 4 hours and it looks like our house has been hit by an Easter-vomiting tornado. The panic begins. I demand immediate action. We spend the next 2 hours attempting to fix about six months of inattention to the details of our home, such as, the tops of bookshelves and corners.
By this point I’m beginning to hate my life. I’m racing around like a fucking banshee in attempt to bring my house even NEAR the point of acceptable, and while I’m doing so, my kids are taking turns rolling on the ground singing the Good-Luck-Charlie theme song and/or avoiding me. By the time I’m done with my cleaning rampage everybody wants to off themselves.
MUST DYE EGGS.
We go outside and dye eggs for about 10 minutes, since we’re now running late. Rocket spends most of the time throwing the eggs at the back fence. Ava spends her time screaming at Rocket to stop throwing eggs at the back fence.
I look at the clock and see we have ONE FUCKING HOUR before my family arrives.
I gather them up, we race into the bathtub, I start ironing. I’m barking orders and things are getting tight. Nobody wants to bathe. I threaten great bodily harm if they don’t just do it NOW. All parenting skill has left the building. I am now in psycho get-the-kids-dressed-up-for-a-big-family-event mode.
Rocket doesn’t want a belt. Ava’s shoes don’t match. Georgia hates getting dressed. Finally I get them in their outfits. I feel like a ran a 5K. (I have no idea what a 5K is, FYI.)
My family shows up. I need a few pictures of the kids before they ruin their outfits. I get them all outside by the bush. Rocket is scowling. Georgia is screaming. After every shot, Rocket bolts off and I look at Mac, mouthing the words “I’m gonna fucking kill ‘em.” Ava is the only one who participates. I love Ava.
We hide eggs. The kids find eggs. I can’t get any pictures because they’re running around like bats outta hell. I’m trying to keep Georgia away from the candy filled ones on account of the dress she’s wearing. I succeed, but only because I’m chasing her around like an eagle and prey – and it’s not fun.
Running late, feeling like I’ve already lived an entire day, we pile in the car to go to Grandma’s house, but not before we run around trying to locate everybody’s play clothes for later, last-minute must-have items (purses and hats and diapers and Matchbox cars). Finally, we all pile in the car with stress and bad attitudes and cruise over to Grandma’s house,
where we eat lamb and ham and 75 desserts.
You see how I bolded that last line?
That’s because I focus on the positive.
That’s me, always lookin’ at the bright side.
Here’s the rest of the bright side…and what will keep me going, looking forward to next Easter like a delusional idiot…
Until next year, people.
shaunaTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 8:57
you funny girl!! i can barely do it w one and another coming soon. you deserve 75 desserts!!
Michael AnnTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 10:16
Ha ha! “Huge disconnect” pretty much says it all. There is always the Hallmark image of how the holidays should be, and they never really are. Real life rears its ugly head! LOVE the photos 🙂
CarreraTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 10:37
Love the Easter outfits!
Lori DyanTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 10:58
This is awesome. And it reinforces to me that moving far away from my family (losing free babysitting but staying in jammies until 4pm on major holidays) was a good move.
PaigeTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 11:46
The first portion of this post had me picturing you in a 1950’s housewife’s uniform (complete with glossy red lipstick, perfectly coiffed hair, and a frilly apron [basically Alice from United States of Tara]) while sunshiney music played in the background.
The latter: death metal, hair askew, children screaming whilst covered in chocolate and green plastic grass.
PaigeTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 11:48
Also, your children are adorable. Rocket’s suit slays me.
StaceyTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 17:32
Rocket has style, man.
KarenTuesday, 10 April, 2012 at 20:24
That’s really funny!You painted a picture in my mind while everything was going on, great post!
BrandonWednesday, 11 April, 2012 at 12:17
Rocket is a pimp. I feel bad for all the ladies whose hearts will be broken by that kid.
The SweetestWednesday, 11 April, 2012 at 20:46
This reminds me how glad I am that we live three states away from grandparents. After the morning egg hunt and easter basket filled with toys and some junkie candy that he didn’t even like my son said, “When is the Easter party?” My husband and I looked at each other and said, “This is it, kid,” to which he was very confused.
Kyla hibbardFriday, 13 April, 2012 at 23:24
My favorite part was the 75 desserts!
Stephanie VoughtSaturday, 14 April, 2012 at 8:40
Loving Rocket’s outfit! He’s stylin’! 🙂
DebSaturday, 14 April, 2012 at 19:55
The pictures are fantastic!! Your kids are adorable.
Nj housewifeWednesday, 18 April, 2012 at 14:32
Lol!!! I haven’t had time to read any posts lately but I can never resist reading yours. When I reAd the first half I said to myself, “this doesn’t sound like her…did she change?” and then the good old renegade mom came back. Hillarious!! Like alwAys.
CatThursday, 24 January, 2013 at 0:01
Omg I actually lolled reading that, so typical of every family I bet, except the perfect ones who are always perfect but we pretend they don’t exist.
Man your little dude’s got style btw!
KristalFriday, 30 May, 2014 at 5:57
Love all your posts! Keep em comin!
Yvonne HILLTuesday, 20 January, 2015 at 12:06
Rocket has swag !!