Ok, Huggies... Whoever is the smart marketing exec whose idea it was to make a "variety" box of pull-ups for "threenagers" needs to give their head a shake. NO, I do not want a box where every 3rd pull-up is Dr. McStuffins... I want a whole darn box of Dr. McStuffins. The funniest part is, Bs seen the show probably twice... and yet this cute lil' face RULES our bedtime routine. Anyone want a box of pullups size 3T-4T ... missing all Dr. McStuffins pullups? Come on, really! No one wants the fish from the lil mermaid... couldn't that have been better planned.. and if they do... let them buy a whole box of the fish! hahaha
This brings me to my blog for tonight. I left the room having put out numerous toddler fires thinking about a conversation I had with a friend this week. Although, I'm typing quietly because "Duckie" is still M.I.A this evening, and the second that little stuffed "stuffy of the month" shows his head, he's got some explaining to do. If B hears me, she'll know I'm not really still looking for him, like I promised to do an hour ago.
Running some errands this week with D while B was in preschool, I ran into an old friend at the mall. As soon as I left this conversation, I was so touched by what we had talked about I vowed to write about and be inspired by it. (so it took me two days, a mid day well overdue shower and a recharge of my dead laptop to finally get me to sit down and write... that's pretty good... no?!)
My friend KD is a mother an only child. I got to know her and her family many years ago when her now pre-teen was just a little girl. Then, she was brilliant. A smart little book reader who was cute as a button, well behaved and loved her mom. As I stood there and asked how her daughter was, I expected to hear a flood of "OMG my pre-teen" type stories. She started out saying that she's doing pretty good. Despite her choice in friends that could be a bad influence, she's continued to be a little independent, goal driven, smarty. She looked me in the eye and said "Corrie, she's perfect." I have tears as I write this. This mom was giving huge props to her daughter, didn't have a single complaint in the world, acknowledged that it wasn't easy getting to where they were, but that she was simply perfect in her eyes.
After more catching up on other unrelated gossip, we exchanged goodbyes and I got back in my vehicle. I sat there... in awe. What had just taken place was so touching that it has now changed my entire perspective of things. All too often I find myself in conversations surrounding deviant toddlers, excuses for behaviours and complaints about non-compliance, time buying and temper tantrums. I speak of the struggles I have getting my Sr.Baby to eat and not choke, nap and not cry and play while being gentle. I cant' think of many times that I have stood and praised just how wonderful my children are. KD was so proud... not of herself necessarily and her efforts that got her daughter to where she is, but of her daughter and just how awesome a person she was. She stood and spoke of her unique character. How she had dyed her hair so many times and came home and shaved it to start fresh. Something a girl of that age wouldn't really think of doing in a million years. But as KD said, she just doesn't care about what other people think and that is so cool.
I feel like the world we live in is driven by "one-upping" each other. For some reason social media has created this feeling of competition. I have been criticized for it many times as I post a lot. I'm creative and can do a lot of things myself. I enjoy doing things with my children and sharing those things for people (mostly family) to see. I'm not bragging, or showing off (well... that ombre creamsicle cake i pulled off was pure brag central!). I feel as though I complain because it's just easier to do. It's more readily understood and listened to... or is it? This is where KD has shifted my entire thought process. Why don't I speak of how perfect my children are? Why do I hide those conversations only for family. My girls are perfect. They are the easiest going, always smiling, rarely crying, loving sleeping little balls of perfection that we created and are SO proud of. Sure they have their moments, but I need to think more along the track of "I am so lucky." After all, so many people dream of what I have... and I mean that in the least cockiest way possible. I need to be less afraid to brag. To hold my head up high and not default to speaking of the struggles. I have it made, why do I feel pressured to have to downplay it?
Tonight, I pray, that when I have pre-teens, I too will stand and be able to say "they are just perfect"... although I'm not sure my mother would have said that about me (lol!).
That ombre creamsicle cake: