Purple Is A Fruit: Picture perfect

Oh look, a charming image from this weekend's Christmas tree outing. A father and son, enjoying an traditional holiday moment together:

Except, what's missing from this bucolic tableau? (Other than the child's mittens, of course.) Why, it's Mommy. Where is Mommy?

She's behind the camera, as usual, shivering in the snow in a coat that won't zip shut over a 7-months-pregnant belly. She's the one trying to hold the boy's hand to keep it warm, while he yanks it from her grip, shouts NO, and chases his father. She's holding a squirming, tantruming toddler while he screams DADDY, DADDY, DADDY over and over in her ear like a firebell while the beloved, eternally preferred DADDY takes the tree out to the truck. She's sitting in the truck, sniffling back hormonal tears, while her son cries piteously in the backseat about DADDY, DADDY, where is DADDY. She's thinking that in the rolling credits of her family's life, she would be listed somewhere near the bottom. Maybe under "grip", or more accurately, "personal assistant to Young Master". She tearfully announces to DADDY that she's nothing more than a glorified babysitter, a nearly pointless biological accessory that is simply around to do the breeding, and that her own child couldn't care less if she lived or died and she's going to move to a Caribbean island and spend the rest of her days serving watered-down Mai Tais to tipsy businessmen because FUCK IT.

Later, of course, she takes it all back, as her traitorous son clings joyfully to her leg yelling I GOT YOU MOMMY.

Oh, the things we don't put in the holiday cards.

Comments

My son won't wear mittens so we never even try. He also doesn't have a hat so I always have to put his sweatshirt on and then his coat so something covers his head.

He's been preferring that I put him to bed lately, pushing his father away. I know it frustrates my husband, but I am due in just a few weeks and I know I won't be able to have time to always put him to bed then, so we're trying to just get through it.

Maybe it's because you're pregnant? Daddy always looks just the same (damn him!) and is just the same, while we change looks and moods and ... well, just everything. God, who knows what they're ever thinking!

Posted by: Joanne | 12/03/2007 at 10:20 AM

My 17 month old son is the same way about "Da" - on weekends I can't buy attention from that kid. Part of it in my case (I think) is that I'm home full time with J and daddy is this wonderful, fun person who chases him at full blast speed for half an hour each day (and on demand during weekends). I'm boring, predictable mommy who is there all. the. time. Doing laundry, washing dishes, making sure he eats and has a clean diaper. YAWN. I wonder how things will change when our #2 gets here in May.

Posted by: Robin | 12/03/2007 at 10:46 AM

I think my husband feels the way you do minus the hormonal thing. My son sniffles for me when feeling down or sad and misses me immensely when I am not around to the point of needing to call to cry into the phone about whatever misdeed his father has done. Like say taking away that knife - I kid of course but you know it is usually some tragedy like having a beloved toy taken away for throwing it at Daddy's head or Daddy forget his blanket at home - the horror...

From my point of view, I wish at times that there was more evenness to this love but I love the love so it is a weird place for either parent to be I guess...

And wow that was so deep & profound, huh?

Posted by: Christina | 12/03/2007 at 11:01 AM

My now 3 y/o switches her allegiances but she was on a huge Daddy kick when I was pregnant. She was quite mean about it too. No mommy! No mommy! I want Daddy! And she would just wail. We would come home and she would run up the steps, where's Daddy? I remember just sobbing over it. Now that I have two, I am actually grateful for the attention Daddy gives her and I'm thankful that he can entertain her when I am just exhausted from caring for an infant. Now that I'm not pregnant, the Where's Daddy? I want Daddy doesn't bother me nearly as much. It sucks to not be the preferred parent. I freakin grew her in my own body, birthed her (22 hours, thank you), nursed her etc and this is the thanks I get?? Kids are supposed to prefer their moms right? I always felt like I was doing something wrong.

Posted by: acornn | 12/03/2007 at 12:34 PM

My 2yo is a total Daddy's girl. I actually have never minded this as I have an older girl from a previous relationship who was brought up by me without contact with her father, so I cherish the opportunity my younger daughter has of building that relationship with her daddy. Plus my older girl prefers me to her step-dad (although they have a great relationship these days, but it took five years to get there!) so I don't feel left out in the same way. But it's anyone's guess which way our new little boy will go!

Also, pregnancy hormones are such a drag. I'm so glad to be getting over the compulsion to burst into tears at least four times a day over totally trivial things...

Posted by: Liz in Australia | 12/03/2007 at 01:12 PM

My nephew will be 2 in January. He is in the only daddy stage right now. My sister told me a story that he screamed bloody murder when she pushed the cart in the store for five mins. Once daddy came back, he was fine. She is pregnant with her third boy. She is feeling very outnumbered.

Posted by: Amanda | 12/03/2007 at 02:31 PM

Amen, sister!

All day long today my 2 yr old, Carson, asked me to call Daddy because he really really really NEEDED to talk to him. He NEEDED Daddy to come home. He NEEDED to play with Daddy. Mommy was NOT good enough and could do nothing to charm her prince. I thought nothing short of hanging him in the laundry room from his toes. Until I left for work at 2:30pm... I called home about a 1/2 hour ago, Carson gets on the phone and says "Come here" in this pitiful small innocent baby voice.

Okay...you win. I'm yours.

Posted by: Christa | 12/03/2007 at 04:31 PM

My girl is headed straight for the 'daddy zone.' My first clue -- the words Ma or Mama or anything sounding remotely like what I'm supposed to be called were already reserved for 'any general need' while 'da', 'da, da' and 'daddy' were free to become **special**. Sigh. I'm sorry, but you'd have to be a robot NOT to think, "I endured XX hours of labor and my brain is fine tuned to the sound of your every breath and yet you discount me for some Old Spice wearer????" Anyhoo, not much I can do. Except lie in wait for when she has kids of her own and then, oh yeah, THEN we'll bond over this crazy sh*t. I seriously don't compete, but I love every last minute I get to snuggle with her and take deep breaths of that awesome baby/toddler scent (sans poo, of course). And I love it all the more because I get to share it with Macho Mouse over there. Would be much harder alone.

Posted by: DD | 12/03/2007 at 08:05 PM

Oh, it would be so funny if we DID put those things in holiday cards.

Posted by: Swistle | 12/03/2007 at 09:59 PM

That last line and all the lines before is why you're just absolutely one of my favorite writers. Ever.

Posted by: She Likes Purple | 12/04/2007 at 09:12 PM

My condolences to Alisa Craddock for the inevitable loss the Jacksonville Jaguars suffered at the hands of the New England Patriots. They hung in with them for half a game but they discovered what every other team this season has learned: You do not give Tom Brady time in the pocket. Granted, another stellar performance by his offensive line contributed to his near perfect outing Saturday night but I was surprised that the Jaguars didn't change their defensive schemes in the second half.

Posted by: | 02/26/2010 at 06:07 AM