The Christmas tree is up and decorated, which I guess means that we’re ready for the holiday season. Mostly.
I get really weird this time of year. I mean, weirder than normal. It’s easy in all the holiday hullabaloo to get lost in the competitive drive to have the BEST Christmas, give your kids the BEST presents, and in general, be the BEST parent you can possibly be. The kids will love you and appreciate all of it, right? Right?
Whenever anything comes along that makes me compare myself to other parents, it always makes me cringe. People take one look at my lovely, sweet little girl and think that I must have this parenting thing down. Nothing could be farther from the truth. If my kiddo is wonderful (and she is), it’s because of her. Not me. I am a bad mommy. I am selfish, self-absorbed, and way to focused on other things.
For some reason, I am the only one who sees this. And my daughter seems to be growing up fine in spite of it all. I am lucky.
I’ll give you an example of something that happened last night. My daughter has a fish. A goldfish. Named Crystal. I hate this fish.
You probably wonder how it’s possible to hate a fish. What’s not to like? They’re quiet, confined to one small space in the house. Mostly easy to take care of. But there’s the part that I hate. The taking care of it part. When we got the fish, I knew right away that I would be the one who had to clean the tank. The kid wasn’t going to do it. The hubby shouldn’t have to do it. So that left me.
Fine. But the fish can tell that I don’t like it. I know this to be true. It gets more and more agitated when I’m nearby, and it’s already a pretty neurotic creature. But here’s the thing – we’ve always had bad luck with fish. They are usually dead by this point. This fish is spiting me by living ten times longer (at least) than its predecessors. I have had thoughts of “accidentally” dropping the fish when trying to take it out of the tank to clean it. This happened once, and it was truly an accident – the fish actually landed in the garbage can and I had to find it in the garbage and throw it back in the water. And it lived. It’s fine. It’s Superfish for all I know.
So now my hands feel funny, even though I’ve washed them several times. I feel like I smell like fish food. But the tank is clean. Crystal the Superfish will live another day in her nice clean tank. To be honest, I think she will outlive me. I’ll let her take over this blog when I kick the bucket.