I mentioned on Facebook the other day that last year was a lot of talk and not as much action as I’d like. Since I am nothing if not a woman of her word, I decided to get on that saddle and get shit started right away this year.
So, instead of prolonging things and waiting it out, I decided it was best to get my Epic Mom Fail of the Year out of the way before we even got five days of 2015 under our belts. Go big or go home, right guys? Because #YOLO!
Somehow, through a combination of a giant misunderstanding and gross negligence on my part (this is one of those times when my husband breaks out his favorite nickname for me: NegliJenny. Yeah. Hilarious.), I managed to order tickets for Disney Princesses and Heroes on Ice while thinking I purchased Frozen on Ice tickets. I know this doesn’t sound epic. It might even sound borderline silly. But you are not the parent of my kids and you did not witness their crushing disappointment.
Let’s back up.
So I ordered what I thought were Frozen on Ice tickets. My excitement about it grew immeasurably as I kept this development from the girls for months until Christmas morning when they unwrapped a gift from my husband and I which included cute little handmade Elsa and Anna dolls, matching Frozen “forever sisters” t-shirts and a printout of a Frozen on Ice poster. Cue giddy eagerness that had a little over a week to build up and bubble over.
Imagine your daughters each getting the costume of their favorite Frozen sister for Christmas and practicing their roles while watching the movie, their excitement for what was to come growing with every scene. Imagine them waking up the morning of the show, putting on their costumes and choosing a pair of shoes they thought best fit their character. Imagine them sitting still long enough for you to braid their hair like their character, even though the giddiness boiling up inside of them made it near impossible to stay still. Imagine their faces as you pull into the parking lot, or better yet, as you take your seats.
Now imagine their faces as they realize YOU’RE AT THE WRONG FREAKING SHOW.
My husband, who thoroughly enjoys sinking his teeth into a nice, juicy Father Superior role was all over this one. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be typing this to you, my friends. Samantha, whose flair for the dramatic foreshadows an Oscar or two on her mantle, was visibly devastated. Poor Ellie was just confused. Even this morning, as she brushed her teeth, she looked up at me and said “I weally wish we could see Fwozen on Ice. Maybe I can lead the way next time and we won’t go to the wrong one.”
But nothing, nothing compared to the punishment I gave myself. I thought I was going to ugly cry right there, in an arena full of people. In my head, I was the worst mother in the history of the world.
But as the hours melted away, something magical happened: the world continued revolving. We got home and the girls played with (other, less disappointing) Christmas presents. They fought. They hugged. They ate dinner and went to bed.
I made a mistake and it really disappointed my kids and it’s OK.
The sky didn’t collapse in on us. Life goes on. My ego may be severely bruised and my awesome points completely depleted, but this thing that feels so Epic to me right now will fade and slowly one day (not today, Husband) I’ll be able to laugh about it and will be OK about being the butt of jokes about it. It won’t sting as much and I’ll laugh at myself for being so injured by it and for being annoyed that no one understands why I’m so upset about it.
It’s all OK. If only I could let it go, let it gooooo!
This year I have set a goal for myself to write 52 essays: one finished piece every week. Writing is the reason I started this blog in the first place and I feel like I’ve fallen away from it a lot of times to throw content at the wall that I think people (or Pinterest) want to see.
What I want is to be a better writer. I can’t do that without actually writing—and not just quick summaries to get words on a page. I’m not sure what you can expect from them because I’m sort of winging it, but I have a feeling many will be like this one: a mixture of humor and honesty. Hopefully you’ll love them. Maybe you’ll hate them. We’ll just have to wait and see. 😉