I don’t get into the whole comparison game. I’ll do me and you do you. Boo boo.
Anyways, I couldn’t help but doing a little bit of comparing a few weeks ago I went with a friend to take our babies to see Santa. We are both new moms and we spent most of the afternoon sharing notes and experiences which is essentially the definition of an awesome time for a new mom (“You mean we can talk about our babies all day long and no one is going to roll their eyes? Sign. me. up.”)
You might think that I compared our weight loss (she’s back to pre-baby, and I still have to lose the equivalent OF my baby) or mommy skillz (her baby takes all kinds of naps, and Otis basically has really long blinks), but no. I didn’t start “comparing” until it was time for Santa…
When it was our turn for Santa pics we had Otis go first because he was closer to fussy than Baby L. Unfortunately, a combination of hunger, tiredness and a strangely dressed old dude spelled disaster and unhappiness for my little man. He freaked out and the photographer suggested that we go ahead and do Baby L’s pictures and try Otis again afterwards.
You need to know that Baby L was equally tired, but this little man has show business in his DNA, and he turned his charm on. Also, Julie’s an awesome mom that immediately knew her rendition of “Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” would get a smile out of him (sidenote: Baby L’s dad is a doctor and it makes all kinds of sense that he’d get a kick out a baby anatomy lesson).
Otis tried again, but he just wasn’t having it. Santa was not his friend, and I’m pretty sure he was considering finding a lawyer to file for emancipation because what kind of mother would subject him to such torture?
We went to pick up the pictures that were deemed “the best” by the photographer. Here’s what we got:
Yeah. My kid looks like he’s about to go ape on
me Santa someone, and Baby L’s pic looks like the movie poster for a Miracle on 34th Street remake. Sigh.
* Before my mom goes off on me for comparing my baby to someone else, I’d just like to remind her of Rachel Darby and 1st grade (“Oh, you made all A’s… what about Rachel Darby?”). I survived, and so will he 🙂
** To clarify what I find amusing: That Otis would have a relatively standard/normal/horrified pic with Santa at the same time that Baby L achieved Santa pic perfection (I looked through the photographer’s pics from the day and Baby L really did knock it out of the park for the Under 1 set. He was even the package price sheet example!).
*** Santa was hilarious in a Are-you-serious? kind of way. I knew some of the people helping out and they mentioned that I was a marriage counselor, and Santa overheard. When I handed him Otis he was all, “You’re too young to be a marriage counselor”. Yeah… ok… well, take my baby. Then when Otis was freaking out and I took him back he was all, “You know, I give marriage advice, too. It’s one day for you, one day for him, and one day for you both of you each month. One guy said that advice saved his marriage.” Great… I’ll put that in the book I’m writing, Making Mrs. Clause Happy for Eternity: Marriage Advice from Santa.
**** Seriously, I’m writing a marriage book. Sign up for my Nashville Marriage Studio Newsletter to get updates.