With a baby the holiday’s have been like a twisted episode of the Amazing Race. I have my goals. I set out to do what seems like a mildly daunting, but doable task of making my way to the mall to pick up gifts. But then I am set back with challenges of crazy poopy diapers half way through shopping with a baby who refuses to be laid on any surface around fluorescent lights thanks to the last vaccination visit at the doctors office. I don’t blame him but it makes changing a loaded sweet potato diaper a level 15 on a scale of 1 to 10 in difficulty. Then I do something like leave a bag of gifts in the restroom where I changed my unusually strong baby and have to walk/run with a baby back to the restroom to find the gift is gone. Then run all the way across the mall to the security office in hopes that someone was kind enough to not run off with my gifts. Luckily I catch a break and the gifts are there but now I am tired, Noah is wild and we were supposed to go visit Santa.
As stated in the last paragraph Noah has been a little crazy since his last doctors visit.
Anything resembling the vaccination scenario triggers apparent flashbacks and he goes ca-razy.
Laying him on a table with lights above – no.
People besides Kevin and I. – no.
Separation anxiety was already setting in.
When Kevin leaves for work Noah pulls out a deep, heart retching, guilt triggering pouty face, fully equipped with a quivering chin.
So take a people skeptical baby, one seemed nice nurse and 5 shots and you get a temporary ( I hope) socialphobe baby.
Due to Noah’s visceral reaction to strangers Kevin and I have been strongly debating taking Noah to have his picture taken with jolly old St. Nick.
We went back and forth and ultimately decided against it.
We knew what would happen.
We would dress him up in uncomfortable clothes.
We would take him in the holiday crazy crowds to wait in line.
We would get to Santa.
And the poopy diaper would hit the fan.
There would be tears.
Probably some beard pulling.
And one red faced picture of us seemingly torturing our baby in the name of Christmas.
I felt bad. Even though I knew Noah would much prefer to not visit with Santa this year I felt like I was letting Noah down.
I had major mommy guilt.
Then we were at a local mall shopping last week and passed a Santa..
I had Noah wave, Kevin and I smiled and Santa very ginchingly replied, “I am on break.”
Kevin and I both looked at each other and I said, “He is not sitting on Santa’s lap this year!”
Even though we met the bad Santa and you would think that would have nixed my guilt it still had a grip on me.
Then today I had to run to the grocery store to pick up a few last minute holiday items.
I was waiting in the long line of last minute shoppers holding Noah and playing with him.
Then I heard a gentle deep voice from behind say, “He has everything he wants for Christmas.”
I turned to see a jolly man in a bright red suit with a long white beard waving his white gloved hands at Noah.
I said, “He has more than he needs, I think I could have wrapped wrapping paper and he would have been happy!”
And Santa said, “No, no, no. He has you. He has love. He won’t remember what you got him or even what “I” get him. He will remember how you made him feel. And you can see it in his eyes, he is loved.”
Noah who was clinging to me, cracked a smile at Santa when he jiggled his bell at him.
And with that I was next to check out.
I looked back and said thank you to Santa and he simply nodded.
Maybe Noah didn’t sit on a mall Santa’s lap this year but that is ok. He met the real deal at the grocery store on Christmas Eve and no picture could have captured the true magic of Noah’s first visit with Santa.