I’m not one of THOSE moms, I swear. I don’t dress Emmy in all green on St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t dress her in red, white, and blue on the Fourth of July. Ok, maybe I DO dress her up like a baby duck on Halloween (love), but I definitely DON’T dress her up like a dreidel on Hannukah.
And yet, for some unexplicable reason, I felt the urge to dress my daughter up for Valentine’s Day this morning.
Emmy is not exactly what you would call a girly-girl. She’s a climber, a tumbler, a ball thrower, and a dirt enthusiast. Generally speaking, I dress her in attire appropriate to her nature and her age: jeans, cotton shirts, comfy yoga pants… you know, clothes she can move around freely in, and clothes I won’t be too upset about her staining with yogurt, mud, and markers.
So what came over me this morning? A Valentine’s Day Alien. Yup, you heard me. A Valentine’s Day alien took over my body and forced me, zombie-like, to scoop up my unsuspecting child and dress her in a pink and white dress with matching itchy stockings. And then the alien made me force the three hairs on her head into adoooorable teeny weeny pigtails. And accessorize her with little pink doodads and whatnots. And then the alien made me chase her around the house trying to take pictures so I could post them on Facebook with a status update of “Shower the people you love with love. Show them the way that you feel. – James Taylor”
I’ve gotta blame the alien, cause there’s NO WAY I would have done all that stuff.
As Valentine’s Day Alien Mama, I brought my decked-out daughter to daycare this morning, sure that the teachers in the Busy Bees room would stop in their tracks, drop to their knees, and declare Em the most beautiful Valentines-Day-Goddess-Toddler they had ever seen. It was very important to the alien inside my body that they notice my daughter’s extreme cuteness.
Ummm… apparently there were A LOT of aliens crawling into Capital District mama bodies this morning, because all the kids in Em’s class were DECKED OUT. I’m talking tutus, tiaras, red heart sweaters, body glitter..THE WHOLE NINE YARDS and then another yard and a half. I’m pretty sure there was ONE toddler whose mama must have somehow escaped the Valentine’s Day alien, cause she was wearing normal, comfy, play-time-appropriate toddler clothes. But she was the only one. Poor Em was staring at the lucky survivor enviously while she scratched her own itchy stocking-clad legs.
I know that in the battle of Valentine’s Day Alien vs. Emmy, my daughter is definitely going to come out on top. Sure as eggs is eggs, I will go pick up my daughter at daycare this afternoon, and will find her pretty pink and white striped dress covered with a vast array of NEW colors, like dirt brown, pea-green, and permanent marker red. Her stockings will be ripped to shreds, and her hair will once again resemble that of Art Garfunkle. Or maybe she will PURPOSELY have a messy poopy so she can change into some of her comfortable “backup” clothes. She’ll show 'em who’s boss. Valentine’s Day Alien will concede, shrink away, and swear to never ever take over Mama’s body again. Lesson learned.
Mmmmm... at least until next year.