Sunday, April 17, 2011

Mommy Guilt

Unless you're a superhero, no mistakes kind of mom, or, I suppose, a complete deadbeat mom, you suffer from "mommy guilt."  Every mani/pedi conjures cost comparisons between your pampering and their Pampers.  Every night out is tempered by the possibility that they'll wake up and realize you're gone.  Hell, sometimes I even debate buying myself a cupcake and eating it in the bathroom, so that I don't have to share it and just the THOUGHT makes me feel guilty.

Today, my two year old took "mommy guilt" to a whole new level.  Yesterday, we joined my beautiful sister-in-law-to-be and the rest of the family to enjoy some Mexican food in celebration of her birthday, albeit a month or so late.  Kaia was delighted to find a place mat and crayons for her to color with.  Let me start this by saying that I'm all for encouraging creativity.  I'm even more for bribing a kid at a restaurant into good behavior.  But deep down, I HATE crayons.  I'm a little Type A and like to be in control of what my kid plays with.  I hate crayons because they get color on stuff other than the paper that I've designated.  I hate little toys because Mikko will put them in his mouth.  I hate noisy toys because I have to listen to them.  Anyway, back to the crayons...

So, Kaia has been gripping a crayon in each hand pretty much non-stop since yesterday.  She slept with one in her little mitt on the drive home from Madison.  Last night she cried when I wouldn't let her bring them to bed.  This morning she drew all over her Dora and Boots in the car on the way to the store.  (I might have made a less than polite comment about the genius who let a 2 year old have crayons in her carseat they day before.)  Needless to say, she's developed an extreme interest in coloring.  So, despite my annoyance at a "ruined" book, Dora's new swimsuit design and the little shavings of crayon I'm finding all over the house because she likes to dig her tiny fingernail into the crayon as she wanders with them in her tight pudgy grip, I agreed to color with her this morning.

I drew a green Elmo and then she asked for a bigger green Elmo.  I got a little overzealous in my attempt to give her a great big green Elmo and snapped the green crayon in two right before her little eyes.  I'm astonished that she didn't cry.  I immediately told her I was sorry.  (By the way, she has tons of crayons, but these were the new and oh-so-special free restaurant crayons.)

I kid you not, she carried that half crayon around ALL DAY.  She must have reminded me about breaking the crayon while drawing the big Elmo a hundred times.  Her:  "Mommy, you break it."  Me:  "Yes, honey.  I broke it.  I'm really sorry."  Her:  "Mommy, you break it . . . big Elmo."  Me:  "I know, sweetie.  I broke it while I was drawing the big Elmo.  I'm sorry."  Her:  "Mommy, it breaked.  You break it."  Me:  "Jesus, kid, give it up already."  I'm kidding, I took my beating like a champ and apologized every time, secretly hoping that she'd eventually get bored with it and I could throw the damn thing away.  Not my luck.  She cried for her colors before bed yet again.  I guess that means another day of mommy guilt for me tomorrow.  Worst.  Mom.  Ever.

And yes, the half green crayon is safely stored in a place of honor among the other, lesser loved crayons.

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