BrandiBlog

Last Saturday night was my aunt and uncle’s annual Christmas Dessert Party. I was excited about taking my son this year, as last year when we took him he was only a month old and we were all so damn sleep deprived that I don’t even remember it. I just knew that this year it would be much more fun. Many of the guests who were going to be there had never met Ryan before, and I was feeling quite proud of his new walking/running skills. I was anxious to show him off a bit. But I never could have imagined what was going to happen instead.

My parents called me about an hour before we were supposed to leave for the party. They said that they had an outfit for Ryan and that they wanted to bring it over for him to wear that night. I was a little hesitant, figuring that it was probably some god-awful sweater with reindeer and elves on it. However, I went with it and figured, “Eh, it’s the holidays, right?”

So my mom and dad showed up (10 minutes late as usual) I basically handed them Ryan and told them to get him dressed while I finished packing his diaper bag. I could hear them giggling. Not a good sign. So I peeked into his room and almost had a coronary when I saw what they had put on my dear, sweet child. It was NOT a sweater with reindeer and elves. Hell, it wasn’t even in any way remotely related to Christmas. It was a cow costume. Yes, a COW COSTUME! A white hoodie with black splotches (cow print) with cow ears and horns sewn on the top. Little white sweat pants, with black cow splotches, and a freaking tail on the back. My child was dressed like Elsie the Borden Cow.

I was in shock. I was without words. I felt my heart pound in my chest.

My mom then asked, “Well, what do you think? Isn’t he just PRECIOUS?”

I seriously cannot remember what my response was. But I’m pretty sure that it was something to the effect of, “A Christmas cow, huh?”

A few seconds later, my husband walked in. To say that he was displeased with our child being dressed like a dairy cow was a complete understatement. He said to me, through gritted teeth, “Put another outfit in his diaper bag.” Of course I was already on that one.

We loaded up the car, quickly got Ryan strapped into his carseat, and were off for the Christmas party. Rather than following my parents there, I opted to take a different (and longer) route. I needed some time with Matt to freak out, process it all, and get over the wave of emotions that kept hitting us. We both ranted as I drove, all the while hitting every single red light along the way. Apparently the Universe knew that we needed to be slowed down. Otherwise, I may have strangled my parents.

As I drove, I suddenly thought of something: “Does that outfit have udders on the front???!!!” In my rage-induced blindness earlier I hadn’t noticed that crucial detail. Matt quickly turned around and moved the carseat harness out of the way to check. Thank God–no udders. It didn’t matter, though. I felt like I was going to either cry or throw up.

Then, as often happens in the most desperate of times, something happened that made us both start laughing. I said, in all sincerity and distress, “We’re late for the party, I have a haircut that I hate and my kid is a cow.” Referring to my dreadful haircut from the day before that had turned out NOTHING like the picture of Nicole Ritchie that I showed the stylist, Matt said, “Yeah, instead of the Nicole Ritchie you wound up with the Guy Ritchie.”

We both began laughing hysterically. Tears streamed down my face and I had to struggle to stay in my lane as I cruised down Guadalupe Road. Life never quite turns out the way that I imagine.

Christmas Cows and Guy Ritchie haircuts. The ultimate look for the 2007 Holiday Season.

This entry was posted on Saturday, December 29th, 2007 at 5:01 pm and is filed under Family, Food, Holidays, Life, Motherhood. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your site.