Giving In to Pet Demands

So it seems that my resolve to not acquiesce to the demands of my children is greatly diminished by exhaustion. At a particularly weak moment after being away for nine days, my kids complained that I have for I quote, “200 million years” promised they could get a pet. Last month, Paul had batted around the idea of getting them a rabbit. But after careful consideration, we held to our plan to not get any pets until the twins are out of diapers.

Natalie has been particularly adamant about getting a pet. She has asked for butterflies, worms, camels, llamas, ostriches, horses, turtles, monkeys and most recently cats. One would think that a cat would be the easiest. Unfortunately, since I could die from anaphylactic shock from my extreme allergy to 99% of cats, this is impossible. After feeling like a totally rotten mother, I woke up yesterday wanting more than anything to give my kids something to care for, to see if they had the stamina to step up to a dog.

We settled for Brookstone’s Frog-O-Sphere. The kit comes with two miniature frogs, a snail, live rock, and a bamboo plant all in a conveniently packaged to hopefully keep the kids from killing every thing included. It’s a self-cleaning ecosystem that just requires that the kids remember to feed the frogs twice each week. So far, they are enchanted. Max and Aidan named their frogs Snoopy and Spike while Natalie and Paulina settled for Sally and Sally (since Paulina seems to copy everything that Natalie does). Natalie nearly dozed off on a chair trying to “watch” her baby frogs fall asleep and told me I was the best mommy and she loved me two million three hundred sixty five much. Sometimes giving in to guilt feels pretty good.

No More Moose Poop Candy

I am so desperately guilty for being away in Las Vegas for three days for work that I actually bought the twins Wynn stuffed animals from the hotel gift shop last night. That’s right, I bought them $13 tchotchke that are probably produced with all kinds of allergy inducing stuff inside because nothing says love more than casino logoed stuffed animals.

While I’ve tried very hard the last few months to stop buying guilt gifts, I can’t seem to break my compulsive need to make my kids know undoubtedly that they are always on my mind, no matter where I am. It’s gotten so bad that on one trip when I was pressed for time, I actually saved food from my Southwest Airlines snack box and convinced them that cheese & crackers, a box of raisins, Lorna Doone cookies and a Slim Jim were thoughtful “presents.” I felt no pain when I did it but upon reflection it demonstrates a sickness that I must remedy and soon.

Being a working mom and Catholic is the perfect storm of mommy guilt. As a Catholic, the feeling of guilt is as normal as breathing in air. As a working mom, you can tell yourself every minute of every day that you can and are doing what is best for the family, but the first time you miss a spring concert or a “Bring Someone You Love” dance for your kindergartener, you may as well stab yourself in the heart with the nearest letter opener.

My children have become so used to me bringing them things, they are rummaging through my bags before they have even said hello. This madness must end. I remain determined to break this cycle! No more moose poop candy from Minneapolis, corn-shaped bubble gum from Omaha, pencil sharpeners shaped like the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco or spiral straw and cup contraptions from various airports across the U.S. It will be interesting to see if on my next trip to Phoenix I can resist buying them the cactus shaped gummy candy I brought back last time.