The Real Christmas
Do not let this sweet face fool you. She is neither sweet nor nice. She is a species of child known as the toddler. Known for tyrannical and tantrum throwing behavior. She is not to be trusted.
Our Christmas morning started out as any other. My angelic-faced daughter saw the illuminated tree and was ready for action. She tore through her gifts and was delighted that Santa brought everything she asked for, right down to the Tyrannosaurus Rex toothbrush.
And then it happened. In zero to 60 gone was the sweet dimples and my child and in came the tyrant. It started out innocently enough. She was gifted a beautiful pink jeep to ride. She squealed with delight as the "engine" roared to life in our living room. She was ready to roll. As I explained that we needed to ride the jeep outside I could see the glow go out of her eyes and the demonic glimmer appear.
She knew what was next and it was not what she wanted to hear. I asked her to.... put on her jacket.
Mind you, we live in Texas. And for the most part are blessed with balmy Christmas weather. But not today. A fierce wind was blowing and it was about 40 degrees. I know, I know. I should have just let her go out and the thing. But she was in satin PJs, no shoes and we are battling cold and flu season something fierce.
The tantrum began. She whined. She cried. And then she melted into a puddle on the floor and screamed. "I wanted a red jeep! Pink jeeps are not my favorite."
It was all I could do not to lose it. She had no idea she was getting said jeep so how did she know a pink jeep was not her favorite? And since when does she like red? My Mama mind had lost it. I sent everyone outside to prepare for the keep ride. Meanwhile, inside, I forced tiny pink Nike's on her feet. I wrapped a jacket around her and marched her outside to enjoy this new toy. So there we all stood with one wailing toddler and one pink jeep.
I wish I could say that the rest of the morning got better, but let's be real, it didn't. In fact, it just went down hill from there. Nothing was right. I could not open things right, I did not put on the correct episode of Peppa, I looked at her wrong. I had enough. Christmas magic my a$$. Christmas was over.
I told her that she had been naughty and that Santa was sending an Elf to pick up all her toys so she needed to put them on the front porch. Convinced she would see the err in her ways. Nope. She said ok and that was that. So I picked up the stuff and threw it on the porch. She did not utter a word.
I sent said tyrant to her room for a nap. Meanwhile, everyone else was in a bad mood. Uncle and his girlfriend left for quieter places, Roro was ready to leave and Daddy, well Daddy was about to lose it. And me, well I was over Christmas. If I could have thrown out the tree and all the decor right there, I would have.
Instead, I cleaned. I picked up all the presents and wrapping paper. I vacuumed up every last speck of glitter. I unplugged the Christmas Tree and took down the stockings. I mopped the floors and wiped the counters and declared Christmas was over.
No pictures in front of the tree. No videos of her playing with her new toys. No Christmas movies by the fire. My tyrant, the one who Christmas revolved around stole the joy out of my Christmas. So, if you see a Craigslist ad for a pink jeep, PJ masks jammies, PJ masks shoes, a Finding Dory waterbottle and a T Rex toothbrush, you know its from me.