donuts, tantrums and the joy of Christmas

Ah the joy of Christmas - family, giving, being together, basking in the joy of the birth of baby Jesus. And then there is Christmas shopping. There is no joy there - none!

I come from one of those massive families where we buy presents for everyone and I mean EVERYONE.

I am buying not only for my siblings, my husband's siblings (he has four) and their partners, but our parents (both sets divorced and remarried so there are quite a few), grandparents, step-grandparents, cousins, aunties and uncles (step, biological, whatever).

It is a buying frenzy that is expensive, silly and time-consuming.
I went out on a massive excursion on Saturday without the kids which was great (expensive, but very productive) and came home and hid the loot behind my lounge. Like many old homes, there is no storage or spare rooms in my house.

Then I decided to do it again on Sunday. But this time, I thought I would be clever. I thought I would take the kids. Why oh why was I so naiive?

So I packed them nicely into the super-dooper-four-wheel-d rive-dont-mess-with-me-pr am and toddler seat, gave them little drinks and off we went. It went well for about five minutes. But then the little one started whingeing and crying. To help calm her, my boy decided he would turn around and poke at her head.

"Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't Cry" he yells as he pokes and prods her and just stirs her up more."

At this stage I decide to abort mission and head out. I was parked just near K-mart and decided perhaps I could get one more toy for a party I was going to this week.

Of course I was temporarily insane making the decision to look at toys right next to all the THOMAS TRAINS. Well, you should have seen the scene! Perhaps you did. Mine was the cute little boy going mental at K-Mart, Carousel because he wanted a THOMAS TRAIN and he wanted one NOW!

Oh there were tears and agro - I promised Santa was watching (and wasn't too impressed), that Christmas was in four weeks. I told him he had a toy library full of Thomas trains we could visit - all to no avail.
Finally, I crumbled and did what I vowed I would never do
.
"Hey, if you are good, I will buy you a donut."

Now this is my son who is very sensitive to additives and sweet food. My son who doesnt eat ANYTHING other than peas, corn, rice, chocolate and MacDonalds chippies. I swore I would never use food, especially crap food as a reward for going mental at the shops. But I was hot, tired, desperate and, well, kinda embarrassed at the scene he was making.
So I made a hasty retreat and straight to the Donut shop where I bought him the most colourful (pink I think) donut with the most un-natural looking topping I could find. I bought myself one too and gave the little squarker a bit which shut her up.

I should have quit while I was behind but just as I was heading out the exit I saw a pharmacy.

"Can I help you," the young assistant asks me as the crazy-frustrated mother (me) tries to manoeuvre a too-big pram around too-small gaps between rows of tampons and mouthwash.

"Oh yes, I was looking for the Brauer baby products." Now I cant believe I asked this but I did.

"I am after the Infant Calm for my son, he goes a bit hypo sometimes."
Now, this stuff is a God-send and sometimes I just give my little guy a dose to calm him down when he has worked himself into a frenzy, usually around 5.30pm.

It is good, I am not a bad mum, but you should have seen the look on the assistant's face as she looked at me, then at my son - with pink frosting and hundreds and thousands all over his face - and then back at me.
"You know, food like that will just make things worse," she said to me.

At that point, the Joy of Christmas was truly upon me. Oh yes, there is nothing as empowering and pleasant as advice from a 21-year-old pharmacy assistant to top off a truly enjoyable shopping experience.
What did I say in return? Nothing really clever. I just told her that when she had kids, she would understand.

And she will, one day, understand that it isn't just stupid, ignorant and irresponsible mothers that succumb to junk-food bribery. It is mothers who are absolutely and totally pushed beyond rational thinking. Like I was.