I have a painful admission to make. It’s something I’ve arrived
at after a lot of reflection and soul-searching and after my
husband pointed it out to me. This isn’t easy.
OK, here goes.
I have a painful admission to make. It’s something I’ve arrived at after a lot of reflection and soul-searching and after my husband pointed it out to me. This isn’t easy.
OK, here goes.
It turns out that I’m one of those Moms.
You know what I’m talking out.
Those Moms who trounce over Susie and Bobby to snatch up the very last “Hokey-Pokey Elmo.”
Those Moms who cut in line at the amusement park so their little darling can ride the Merry-Go-Round first.
They’re everywhere: at the park, at the soccer field, at the fast-food restaurants, ready to stomp on anyone who dares cross their path when they are on a mission.
I never thought it could be me.
In my own defense, I blame the baby blinders. You know the invisible goggles we parents don whenever our children are at the forefront of our minds. They prevent us from seeing anything except our goal: the “Hokey-Pokey Elmo,” the first place in line. Well, you get the idea.
Maybe I’m exaggerating. Maybe I’m not the person I’m describing.
I’ll let you, dear reader, be the judge. It all began in the days leading up to the annual downtown Gilroy tree-lighting ceremony. It’s every child’s winter wonderland fantasy: Santa, reindeer, floats and carolers. Did I forget to mention those cute Bonfante Gardens characters? More on them later.
This would be our daughter Emma’s first chance to watch Santa come ho-ho-ing down the street and light up the magnificent tree.
I didn’t want her to miss out on a single, sensational, Santa-filled moment!
That evening, we bundled up Emma in her red coat and wee Santa hat. We pointed out all the holiday lights to her during the car ride downtown. As soon as the car was parked, I scooped Emma out of her car seat and skipped over to the tree. My husband, Chris, Emma, my parents and I nestled in among the crowd of people gathered just as the Jolly Walk got under way.
Chris hoisted Emma up onto his shoulders so she could see over the heads of everyone in front of us.
As Girl Scout troops and school buses paraded by, Emma smiled and pointed and chuckled.
“Turn this way,” I told Chris, focusing my camera lens at our little angel. As I snapped away, Emma’s eyes lit up as she spotted the characters from Bonfante Gardens.
I put my camera down just as Santa rounded the corner pulled by his reindeer, who during the other 364 days of the year, serve as Gilroy City Council members.
“Look Emma,” I squealed. There, I admit it, I did squeal. But I didn’t want her to miss the big guy.
As Santa got ready to light the tree, I plucked Emma from Chris’ shoulders and inched closer.
“Look Emma!” I squealed (again) as the tree glowed.
I ran closer to the tree, hoping to give Emma a close-up view of Santa. As his sleigh dashed away, the Bonfante Gardens characters followed on its heels.
This is where it gets kind of blurry.
I remember edging closer, but a wall of something was in my way. What were those things? Oh, people. I couldn’t get past them.
I cut to the left then across the street, trailing the raccoon and the other furry guy. Emma pointed and clung to my hip as she jiggled through the streets.
“Kelly! Kelly!” a voice called from behind.
But I marched on, in pursuit of those cute Bonfante Gardens characters.
“Kelly!” I heard again. I turned and saw Chris slowing down to catch his breath.
“Give it up,” he said.
“But they’re getting away,” I said.
“They’re trying to leave,” he said.
“I almost had them,” I said.
And I could have caught them, too, if only I was a few steps ahead.
In that instance, the baby blinders had been slammed shut. I was chasing full-grown raccoons down Monterey Street. I had morphed into one of them.
OK, I’ve admitted it. They say that’s the first step. It won’t happen again. I promise, Emma.
Of course, I also promised her one of those “Hokey Pokey Elmos.”
What’s a Mom to do?
Kelly Barbazette lives in Gilroy with her husband, Chris, daughter, Emma, and miniature dachshund. She is the owner of Write Now, a copywriting and public relations company in Gilroy. She can be reached at kb*********@***oo.com.
