Well, it's St. Paddy's Day, and nobody loves to unabashedly reclaim their distant celtic ancestry while appropriating Irish culture more than I.
Sadly, I'm well beyond hosting kitschy St. Patrick's Day parties and indulging in sloppy Irish pub nights overflowing with green-tinged beer. Luckily for me, I'm able to transfer my joy on and make days like these fun and magical for the kiddos now too. My efforts usually take shape in the form of a mischievous leprechaun named Paddy O'Furniture, a witty limerick (read by me in a piss poor Dubliner dialect), a house filled with shamrock shaped clues, and a large sum of faux gold coins thrown haphazardly in the bathub.
As parents, it's our job to create some magic for our kids. But I delight in this aspect of parenting, so I tend to go a bit overboard. I suppose this is because I fondly remember the times when my parents added that extra touch to make things special.
So there are times I want to give it all I have, even when I feel like I'm running on empty. If you've heard me talk about our elf who commits 24 full days of debauchery during December, then know. Let's just say that preplanning mischief while manipulating the body of a toy elf for the entire month is no easy feat, especially when added on to the ever present holiday magic. And then there's February when I put hearts on their doors for 14 days of the month which describe in great detail the things I love about them.
All this is tiring. But it's worth it.
And as much as I complain about the sleepless nights and lament about how the only way I put my writing talent to use - or waste depending on your view - is by crafting witty poems on behalf of a miniature toy doll, I really do love this part of being a mom. I shine here, amid the magic and the mischief of it all. So catch me in 30 years, probably doing this for my grandbabies when the time comes along. After all, what else is childhood for if not full of magic and good trouble?
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