A couple of weeks ago, I asked Gabby if she wanted to go see Santa. She starts up with, "See Santa? See Santa?" so it seemed like a good idea. Yesterday, we decided that we had enough of being snowed in, so we went to visit Santa. Santa lives at Annapolis Mall, and was holding court until 9 PM. Not thinking too much about the time of day, Gabby and I hop in the car and head over. Inauspiciously, there's no traffic. I think we're in good shape. Right?
Wrong.
The parking garages hadn't been cleared yet of the two feet of snow, so they were closed, and quite a few of the remaining spaces were covered. Twenty minutes later, we score a parking space... and Gabby is asleep in the back seat. Le sigh.
I bundle her into the stroller and we get inside. After a bribe of a juice box sporting the favored images of Ernie and Bert, along with more animal crackers that a human being should really be able to consume, we're good to go, standing in line. She doesn't want to get out of the stroller, nor does she want to take off her coat and hat (hand-knit with love by Granny Vilma). Eventually, the prospect of window shopping lures her out of the stroller, and she pressed her nose up against the glass, pointing at the mannequin (Daddy take note: this does not bode well for your future) and chattering about the purse it was carrying.
About 20 minutes in, she makes friends with two other kids in line with us. She starts hugging them. Over and over and over. 35 minutes in, we're about 5 kids or so away from Santa and she spots a giant ball and wants to play with it and the other kids. She does not play nicely, so the ball went away. And so came the tantrum.
Not even the prospect of Santa is quelling this riot. We're talking back-arching, floor-stomping, no-tears, melodramatic madness. We get up to Santa, and we get real tears.
"Gabby, it's Santa!"
"Nooooooooooooooo!!!!"
"But you wanted to see Santa!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
"Do you want Mommy to sit with you to talk to Santa?"
"NONONONONO!!"
The lady behind the camera is gamely -- and futilely -- clicking some stupid stuffed animal to get Gabby's attention. Really, how old do you think this kid is? She's almost 2! That shit doesn't fly anymore. You need to step up your game with the toddlers. Get Elmo or something. She clicks off a couple of shots when I tell her there's no way this photo is going down with a pretty smile. Eventually, Santa hands Gabby a lollipop.
"Lollipop!" She plops it into her mouth and stops crying, but keeps a mutinous look on her face.
"Take this one, you're not going to get another one!" I yell at the lady behind the camera. She clicks. I grab Gabby off Santa before she realizes his hat can come off with a single grab. I buy an obnoxiously expensive package: the single photo on a flash drive plus a $20 credit to shutterfly to get extra prints of the photos that she took at school that came out fabulously!
After all of this, Mommy needs a drink but settles for a whirl around the mall. We land at the Lindt store as we were still in need of
bribes gifts for Gabby's daycare teachers (to whom she is an unfailing charmer). We walk in (she back in her stroller of confinement but content to be wheeled around) and she grabs a gigantonormous bag of truffles. I let her play with it and then swap it out for a foil-covered reindeer the size of my hand. She gets part of the wrapper off and takes a bite.
"Chocwit!" She smiles beatifically at me for this unexpected treat. I swipe the barcode off the thing and hand it to the cashier. We stroll through the mall and occasionally I get treated to strains of toddler song, "Chocwit, chocwit..." I shit you not, she turned it into a song. But she was happy, and more importantly, quiet.
Yes, I am that mother who bribes her kid to keep quiet. Sue me.
Our photo with Santa
