I’ve been a little absent and quiet in this space.  Partly because it’s been REALLY hard not to write about everything on my blog and partly because I’ve been going to bed at 8:30pm.  I.  Can’t.  Stay.  Awake.  Ya’ll.

I was going to tell you yesterday, but I decided to hold off since yesterday turned into a day of national mourning following the bombings in Boston.  My prayers are with everyone there.

If you want a little good news, I have some.  Thank you for reading Somebody’s Parents.  Is there such thing as Somebodies’ Parents?

Charlotte has been looking a bit shaggy and I wanted to get her spruced up a bit for Easter next week.  I took her to one of those kiddie salons today.  We’ve been really hit or miss with this place.  They made her first haircut cute and special, but then gave her a hot-mess mullet another time.

We walked in and there was a child screaming.  I mean awful screaming like someone was scalping her.  I looked up and was shocked to see that I could indeed see her scalp because the stylist was shaving this baby’s head.  I sat with other Americans staring at these parents trying to comfort their screaming child with their deep accents.  Even though the baby was clearly unhappy, the parents were elated and proud.  The stylist carefully collected a lock the child’s hair in a bag to take home.

A quick Google search informed me this special ritual is called a mundan and is an important time in the life of a Hindu child.  Cool, right?  It was neat that we got to see it.

I did not know this at the time, however, and was dealing with my own tired and hungry tot.  I just wanted their screaming child to leave so mine could get her haircut.

After I took this adorable photo, Charlotte was a force to be reckoned with.  She screamed the entire time.  No amount of animal crackers, cartoons or iPhone distractions would soothe her.  Other parents looked at me with either sympathy or annoyance.  I avoided eye-contact with them.

All my efforts were useless.  I threatened her with a time-out.  I told her the Easter Bunny was watching her.  I bribed her with the holy grail of good-behavior prizes, the Dum-Dum lollipops the stylist had.  She took the bait, but then said, “I want a purple one!”

Oh God.  Not purple.  Anything but purple.  I can’t stand the smell or taste of anything with artificial grape flavoring.  It was never the alcohol in a Jell-o shot that turned my tummy in college.  Nope, I would only lose my liquor if I accidentally took a grape shooter.  I don’t even like my sacred red or orange popcicles to be near the purple ones in the box for fear of any purple enfusion.  This extreme aversion stems from an unfortunate stomach flu as a child after being given a dose of grape flavored Children’s Tylenol.  It was traumatic and the reason no purple candy touches my lips.

For a moment Charlotte stopped her screaming and happily sucked her purple lollipop.  I was safely in the parent’s chair.  She started up again and could not be soothed.  I reminded her that the last kid got her head shaved and she was just getting a trim.  The screams continued.  The stylist suggested I hold her.  Oh God!  I grimiced as my child wailed and smeared her sticky purple pop across my face.  I held my breath, so as not to inhale the purple fumes.  Ugh!  I got a whiff and instantly my mind went back to that night when I was six at my grandmothers and the grape evil escaped my body.

To add to this salon fiasco, the stylist decided to take the time to add a little braid, ribbons and a butterfly clip a-la 1996 to her hair.  Seriously?!  I was gagging, my kid continued to wail, and this woman was giving her a “princess style!?”  The topper was what she did next.  The stylist took a handful of gold glitter and tossed it on my kid’s head.  She said, “It’s fairy dust!”  I think I smiled and said, “Oh!  Fairy Dust!” In my brain I screamed, “Lady! Are you %&#*+=@ crazy!?  Who puts glitter on a two-year-old?  This #&^% is gonna be all over my house for weeks!”

I believe this whole experience was my penance for being a culturally insensitive, impatient American.  The grape lollipop ended up in my hair with chunks of glitter stuck in it.  The smell alone made me want to shave my head.

I haven’t written since Christmas, and even then I didn’t really write.  I’ve just enjoyed my vacation.  It was a week of uninterrupted time with family and friends and exactly what our little family needed.  No work, no blogging.  It was really fantastic.  Do it if you can.

It could be the excitement of having Christmas with a 2-year-old that made this year special, but that’s not all of it.  I can’t put my finger on one thing that made it fantastic.  It was every little moment.  I think we have to go back before our actual vacation, to the week before Thanksgiving.

• That is when we took Charlotte to her first Christmas parade and the Santa mania began.  She didn’t even want to sit in her wagon.  Nope, only our shoulders would do.  She wanted to see everything.

• During Thanksgiving she watched her first Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  She couldn’t wait for the Sesame Street float while she sat on her Sesame Street potty.  Greyson and I laughed and laughed at our little naked baby.

• Charlotte ran to Santa and gave him a hug.  She asked him for a baby doll.

• One night in December, Greyson and I had a date night to see Raleigh’s famous version of “A Christmas Carol.”  My former colleague and great friend, Mark played Nephew Fred.  I was so proud I teared up.  When the cast ran into the audience as part of the performance, he found us and hugged us.
• Another night I had a girls night at “The Nutcracker” I told all of you about.
• We got an extra special treat when Greyson’s parents surprised us and flew in from Colorado the weekend before Christmas.  They got to give Charlotte her new kitchen set.
• I got together with my friends from my old dance company growing up since everyone was in town for the holidays.  Some still dance.  For others like me, competitions, recitals, bleeding toes and tutus are all part of a past life.  It was exciting to catch up with them and plan dance days for our own daughters.  

• I also got to meet up with friends from high school.  It was like herding cats for Meagan, Megan and myself to keep track of our two-year-olds.  I love seeing old friends from the past and seeing their life successes.  It does my heart good.  For me, when I look at old friends I see the 17-year-old me, forever preserved in them.

• Santa came!  Her beloved baby doll was in her arms.

• We traveled to my Grandparents houses for a little extended-family time.  Charlotte has not stopped talking about her second cousins Lana, Emma, and Willow.

• New Years Eve we went downtown to Raleigh’s First Night celebration.  We drop an acorn because we’re the City of Oaks.  It’s silly, we know, but it’s our thing here in the Capital City.  We went to the 7:00pm Acorn Drop for children.  This was Charlotte’s first and she couldn’t have been more delightful.  If she kissed us once, it was a million times.  I teared up singing Auld Lang Syne at 7:01pm.  I was that ridiculously happy with my bundled-up little family.

 

Quick sidenote:  This holiday I realized how often I use my Instagram.  (Duh! See above post.  Half these pics are IG.) Seriously.  It’s as much as I use Twitter and Facebook.  I’ve had my account for about 1 1/2 years.  I was shocked at BlogHer ’12 how many bloggers I recognized from Instagram.  Therefore, I’m keeping my account even though many are jumping ship because of all the drama.  I’m considering watermarking my pics.  I dunno.  I just don’t want to worry about it.  Anyway, let me know what you decided.  Let me know if I’m not following you!