I like to think I'm a good mom. I make time each night after work to sit
and play, read or even watch TV with my son. I teach preschool during
the day and then at night bring home exciting surprises like ABC flash
cards to play with or play dough for of course fine motor. (Neither of
these things does he truly care about but someday my future Harvard Grad
will thank me.) On weekends I get no housework done because I would
rather take Vedder all over the city discovering new things. We go to
music class, the park, museums. I snap photos of our every adventure and
post our moments on instagram and Facebook. Then the "likes" and
comments come rolling in and I smile that people think these moments are
as beautiful as I do. This past weekend was different. My last post was
of a very happy toddler hamming it up in his car seat ready for his
first official getaway with just mumma and daddy. Last post at 8 pm
Friday night,
goodbye new york and your busy streets. hello vermont and
your amazingness, read the caption.
Now for some of you you're probably thinking "And? So you went a weekend
without posting on Facebook? So what?" Others know how hard that task
actually is. (I do have to admit, I did sneak in one instagram post on
our car ride home Monday afternoon) I'm not an addict. I could probably
go a week without posting no problem. But for my husband who believes I
truly have an addiction, I made a promise not to post or even check
Facebook for an entire weekend. I never thought it would actually have a
serious impact. But it did.
Instead of instantly sharing funny, beautiful, or aggravating moments
with my family online, I just lived them. I looked for no comments or
likes or any sort of gratification via social networking. I just lived
the moments, still snapping pictures, but it ending with that. Then I
continued living.
In one moment, I tried to capture the perfect family photo and got
aggravated because I couldn't stand the way my husband was
unenthusiastically smiling and the way my face looked because the wind
was blowing my hair everywhere. Vedder continued to just sit there
smiling his ass off and of course looked perfect in every picture. This
session ended with me and Michael screaming at each other and Vedder
teaching himself how to hit the button and run to the couch before the
timer finished and the camera flashed. This lightened the mood and we
lived on.
Maybe it was the wine tasting earlier in the day mixed with the beers we
were drinking, but in another moment I forgot about me and was just
Mumma. Sitting at a table at Long Trail Brewery while having dinner, I
bent towards Vedder, and he ran his car from my shoulder over my head
back and forth creating a tangled mess. He laughed hysterically as I
made obnoxiously exaggerated squeaks of "What are you doing to mumma?
There's a car on my head!" I remember reading a mom's blog about getting
in the picture. No matter that she hadn't lost the baby weight or didn't
have makeup on or her hair done, she got in the picture with her son.
This is exactly what I thought of as two matchbox cars rolled over my
head, back and forth. When I would usually sit back and quickly fix my
hair and find something else to entertain Vedder, I instead just sat
there, with cars in my hair. Vedder isn't going to remember what my hair
looked like, and to be honest, probably won't even remember the moment
at all. But in the moment he laughed "haha mumma! Cars!" repeatedly and I
will never forget it.
Our last moment of our family vacation was definitely less than perfect.
As we settled back in at home, unpacking and getting ready for the work
week, Vedder got ready for bed. Michael asks me where Ted (Vedder's
bear that goes absolutely EVERYWHERE) is. As we begin to search, we both
get a bad feeling. He was left in the rental car. I frantically called
Hertz while Michael continues to search the house. No one was answering.
There was a few inches if snow already on the ground and the wind was
whipping more snow around. Not to mention it was freezing out. No hope.
What if he
fell out in the street while we unpacked the car? We went out to search.
He had to be in the car.
NO ONE IS FUCKING ANSWERING!! We were freaking
out. Vedder was just sitting watching Backyardigans, having no clue the
chaos and stress going on around him. Michael put his shoes and jacket
on and walked 28 blocks in the snow to the rental car company. I put
Vedder to bed trying to distract him with a bottle, a few bunched up
blankets and other stuffed animals in hopes that he would be to
distracted to notice Ted was gone. Five minutes later "Is Ted? Ted? Is
Ted?" I called my parents and cried. After an hour or so waiting at
Hertz, Michael called. "Got him!" He was found outside the old rental
under inches of snow. I was so happy I cried again.
Three days of traveling, eating, playing in the snow, shopping, cooking,
taking pictures, laughing, loving, loosing Ted and then finding him.
Three days of living together as a family of three and nothing else. In
all its craziness it was perfect.
And now as I share these moments on my blog, Facebook and twitter,
you're probably thinking? Well what's the point, you just contradicted
yourself by writing this entire post. The point of my weekend wasn't
giving up ever sharing photos and stories. It was just giving up
instantly sharing them. This weekend allowed me to live the moments,
appreciate them and reflect on them. And then share with the world :)
