I have to admit…I have a love/hate relationship with social media during the holidays.
I see those pictures of toddlers wearing coordinated outfits and big smiles and I miss our younger days. I miss the wonder in his eyes as he sees his delivered by the bunny basket. A sunny photo-op of my boy in an “outfit” with a smile.
Gone are the days of egg hunts at the zoo and corduroy pants with a little vest.
These days, we have to bargain for an Easter picture with a half-smile in sweat pants.
I look closer and I see the tossed hair, the tween acne, and the mustache. Yes…mustache.
“Why are you staring at me like that?!” He asks me in a deeper voice and then rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird.”
I’m sure it does seem weird to him when I stare.
He doesn’t understand that his tween self is still new to me. I still think of him as my little boy. I stare because I know that even this new stage is temporary.
If I’m being honest, most holidays have been hard for My TBP. His quirks and sensitivities don’t go away even during special days. Noise and food hang ups are still present and his social immaturity and transition difficulties don’t realize when it’s supposed to be a memory-making day.
When my 2e kid was little, he didn’t want to have a photo with the Easter Bunny. He was too young for kindergarten when he debated why he should take a photo with a stranger in a costume. He hated the idea that anyone could penetrate his house or yard while he slept. He challenged the “one bunny delivering baskets to everyone”.
We had to expose ourselves as the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and Santa way earlier than we expected.
My 2e kid didn’t understand why the expectations were different, were more, on holidays. There were many times where we tried to explain and then just ended up bargaining and bribing to get that picture.
I know that Facebook is just a tiny snapshot of a tiny piece of a holiday or just an everyday day. It doesn’t show the before or the after and it doesn’t show the reject pictures.
I guess I share this as a call for support. The “I hear ya, girl” or “do you live at my house?” response would be good. I also share to let those of you in a similar situation know that you are not alone.
I know that pictures and social media are not the real meaning of Easter. But I still seek those semi-descent photos to keep a censored sense of holidays gone by.
You’re not alone. I miss the little days.