When I was a kid, I lived for holidays. I counted down the days. I spent hours dreaming of the gifts or the candy or the party or the whatever.
The anticipation was so great that it was impossible to sleep on Christmas Eve; I was so giddy with excitement that I ran downstairs to take inventory of my Easter Basket at six in the morning; I planned my Trick-or-Treating route for weeks before Halloween. Bottom line: I loved holidays.
As I plan for Molly's holidays, I somehow slip back into my own childhood. I expect her to have the same emotions. But she doesn't. Her reaction is much more guarded. She's cautious, even apprehensive. I expect unbridled joy but see a nervous, quiet little girl who is not sure how to react.
Molly's build up to the holiday is all good. She talks the talk and walks the walk. She seems eager for the actual event. But then it arrives and she isn't. You think that I would learn. Or at least be more sensitive. But every time I get the reaction, I am surprised.
I really need to get better at this. I need to stop planning for me and start planning for her. Someone remind me of this the next time a holiday rolls around.
So...was our Easter happy? Of course it was. As soon as I dropped back, called an audible and changed the game plan, Molly did enjoy her Easter. After all, when all was said and done, what's not to enjoy: lots of princess stuff and lots of candy.
Well...the candy. Sigh.
I was the kid who ate all of my holiday candy in one day. And short of a stomach ache or minor/major weight gain, I was fine. At least I think I was. My parents may be able to tell you different, but I never had a huge reaction to sugar.
But, alas, Molly does. Too much sugar and she gets ugly. Big green monster with slime dripping from her fangs ugly. So I have to make a decision: ration the candy and be the big, bad mean mommy, or let her eat whatever she wants and watch the monster transformation while hiding behind the couch with a tranquilizer gun.
And as only I can do, I managed to do both. I rationed the candy despite the loud protests from the monster-in-waiting. But then felt guilty so gave her a little more here and there until the whole slime-from-the-fangs things happened.
Nothing says Happy Easter like putting your kid in timeout because you gave her too much candy. Since I was to blame, I would have been happy to go sit in timeout but that would leave the monster free to seek me out and unleash her wrath upon me. So I had to put her in timeout and feel guilty for every. single. minute.
I will eventually learn from my mistakes. I will plan holidays for my daughter. I will learn to set boundaries on treats in a way that we will both be happy. I will. I really will.
I just hope she hasn't graduated and moved out of the house by the time I finally get it right.
But back to the happy.
Pictures don't lie. Molly did have a Happy Easter. Check out those smiles. And I only had to coax a few
dozen of them!
Coloring Easter Eggs! Woo Hoo!
This is going to be great!
Can't wait to see me eggs!
Gee, this whole coloring eggs thing takes a while.
I must find other ways to amuse myself.
A princess pose and a basket of colored eggs.
Mommy's excitement is unleashed
in the assembly of the Easter Basket.
Molly's apprehensive approach to said Easter Basket.
Eventually she lightened up.
Afterall, there is Snow White
stiking the pose on this nifty bucket!
Obligatory Easter picture with Daddy.
Obligatory Easter picture with Mommy.
The Easter bunny prior to hiding eggs in the yard.
Tony did not wear the ears outside of the house.
"That tricky Easter Bunny!"
was Molly's mantre during the hunt.
More out front? Tricky!
Tricky? Looks a bit obvious to me.
Molly and her loot.
Posing in her Easter dress.
This dress was brought back from China
by our dear friend, Peipei.
Looks nice with Crocs, right?
Four-year-old fashion sense.
Contemplating the timeout that
consuming this M&M will cause.
And here is the reason for the title of this post: