I think I’ve fallen into a somewhat sad pattern of behavior…my guilt over being a working mom is causing me to buy my children’s love. How exactly? First, let’s start with my son’s birthday.
He turned 10 on December 20, and though cursed with the dreaded holiday birthday, we’ve always done our best to plan his party and birthday activities early in December to keep some distance between Christmas. This year, however, his birthday snuck up on me, and I offered him a deal: more expensive birthday present in return for not having a huge party. He would still get cake and ice cream and lunch at his favorite restaurant, but no sleepover, no bounce house, no goodie bags for his friends. Just a quiet meal with family and a home-made cake. How long did it take him to decide he’d rather have a Nintendo DSi? Three seconds. Tops. And I was relieved.
Also in December, my delightful 13 year old daughter, Sydney, came bouncing down the stairs screaming for me to check Twitter. Now first, I ADORE the fact she even knows what Twitter is. And second, it must be something really important, like another shocking celebrity death, or perhaps the eighth grade has been canceled. However, it was bigger than that. Her celebrity crush, Nick Jonas, had just announced tour dates for his new band, and she thought she heard “Nashville” mentioned. My brother happens to live in Nash Vegas, and oh, by the way, works at the studio where Nick recorded his upcoming album. You know what happens next. I’m on the phone with my brother to see what the chances are of getting some tickets. Before you know it, I’ve booked two plane tickets to Nashville, reserved a rental car and imposed upon my brother for tickets AND a place to stay. Needless to say, this was Sydney’s Christmas gift. I did get her a few small things so she’d have a few surprises under the tree Christmas morning, but all in all, definitely her biggest Christmas ever.
Well after planning Syd’s big adventure, I began to feel badly that Jake didn’t get to go anywhere. So I dial up an old friend with the Orlando Magic, and get two tickets to the Magic vs. Bucks on December 30. Because it’s a night game, I also book an inexpensive hotel room so we don’t have to make the drive back to Jax so late. Besides, Jake is a HUGE fan of hotels (who isn’t?!). We arrive at the Magic game early to get our tickets from Will Call, and make it inside in time for shootaround. My friend with the Magic invites us to sit with him on the bench, and Jake gets to meet and talk with Dwight Howard. Freakin’ Dwight Howard. The NBA’s version of Superman. Unreal. We had a great time at the game, enjoyed a late dinner at Steak ‘n Shake and traveled safely back to Jax the following morning.
So here’s the dilemma. First and foremost, I am way appreciative of friends and family who make these experiences happen. I’ve been very blessed to work with some amazing people during my career, and I’m fortunate to have these opportunities. That being said, I do worry that I’m buying my children’s love (and Emma’s only 4 - so she hasn’t quite had time to reap the benefits).
I’m not a good housekeeper, I don’t do a lot of cooking, I spend an excessive amount of time online (Tweeting, Facebooking, emailing, researching, working) and I probably don’t act like the traditional mom (especially if Kenny Chesney is involved). But what I do love - more than anything in the entire universe - are my children. Sydney, because she was first born; Jake, because he’s the only boy; and Emma Grace, because she’s the baby. So if I’m fortunate enough to have the chance to share unique experiences with them, or trade off a gift or two in lieu of planning a party that will ultimately make me stressed and cause me to lose my mind temporarily, I think it’s a win. Right?
