That’s right, I’m always spewing sarcasm, and now I’m forming the Lila Fan Club. I’m actually a nice person IRL, and I like this kid and her mom. I think they’re doing things right on the internet. She doesn’t always look perfect on camera: messy hair, stains on her shirt, still in pull-ups. Oh, and her mom stays out of the spotlight. She also takes breaks when Lila wants.
All in all, I love her.
Back to the reason for this post? Did you see her video on Santa? She’s on his lap—at the mall—whispering in his ear about how she knows he’s really the guy who works at the food court during the year. She tells him his secret is safe with her, and then sits up tall on his lap and asks for about two thousand dollars’ worth of toys and clothes, looking straight at her mom. It’s funny, and lightened my stress the tiniest bit.
I’m ditching the Scrooge hat today and donning my Santa cap, heading to Target (that’s right, this post has been sponsored by the dog with the big red eye). Target has all your holiday shopping needs, including garbage bags for all the wrapping paper wasted and the trash your company creates. Hurry up and save 10% at all stores today.
Tell them UAB sent you. Never mind, don’t. They’ll have no idea who you mean.
Happy holidays and affectionately yours,
The UnAffectionate Blogger
150 Comments
BadMamaDrama commented:
Do you have a fever? I don’t think you’ve ever been this friendly in a post.
DaddyStarbucks commented:
Go straight to the emergency room. This post was good and funny. You must be dying.
I refill my coffee and sit back at the dining room table, laughing at the comments. Me, laughing and smiling.
I think they’re right ... I must be sick. This morning, I couldn’t help smacking up a rather jovial post for me. I do love Lila—she’s the one kid celeb I watch with Gabby. She’s kind of cute in a real way.
By the way, this Target ad is a big coup for me. Typically, they prefer bloggers with a big Instagram following, but they contacted me and I jumped at the opportunity. It’s paying for all of Gabby’s holiday presents and beefing up her 529 ... yes, I’m patting myself on the back.#letsgetit
Speaking of Gabby, she’s home from Leona’s, her belly full of pancakes and playing with her friend Lizzie in her room. I feel a good kind of achy in places I haven’t been achy in a long time, and I’m enjoying her being occupied with a peer a little bit too much.
Memories of last night replay in my mind. Fast forward, rewind, pause, my brain is on overdrive. Problem is, my heart is too.
A. It’s been so long, and I should still be denying myself affection, and, B. I’m lying to Reid.
This morning as we lay in bed, he spoke about his blog and how much he loves it, and joked about his abs. I nodded and acted surprised and interested in the conversation, telling him I liked his blog. “Far cry from a few of the mom blogs I’ve read,” I told him.
I’ve been so lost in Reidville, I forgot who I actually was for a minute or twenty.
“I hate to shoo you out of here,” I told him with a wink, “but Gabby’ll be back soon, and I don’t think we should let her in on our sleepover.”
He kissed me and asked if we wanted to come over for dinner on Sunday. “I’ll do something fun, burgers. You can bring a side dish, if you want?”
Flutters rippled through my veins, mammoth butterflies flapped in my belly. It was a surreal experience.
Anyway, I said, “Yes,” and for five minutes, I was that girl. Young and smitten, balancing it all. Motherhood, love life, career, feelings.
“Mom!”
I try to focus on my daughter.
“Lizzie asked if we can come to Christmas at her house, can we? Can we? Can we?”
Awake from my Reid fog, I stare at Gabby hopping on one foot. “Delia, James, and the kids are coming on Christmas Eve, baby girl. Don’t forget, we always see a movie on Christmas Day,” I say in desperation. I run my hand over her hair and her cheek, taking in my beautiful daughter.
“I know,” she interrupts, continuing to hop.
“Do you have to pee?”
