Quality Time

It's not often that I get quality one-on-one time with any of my kids. Sure, there are tons of moments where I am alone with each of them--like when I am giving Lucia a bath and hollering downstairs at the other two to finish their dinner, or the 5 minutes I spend listening to Andres recount his day each night before I fall asleep in his bed--but are they quality moments, where real bonding takes place? Usually not.

I want to work on this. I know I need to do better, though it always seems like there are 35 things I need to be doing at any given time, with "quality time" being last on the list.

Well, I tried to change this a bit on Sunday. I took Celia Christmas shopping.

The first stop was BJ's, where we picked up some Minecraft books for Andres (from Celia) and a few other items. Naturally Celia saw some things she liked too, including a gigantic Barbie-themed arts and crafts set.

Celia: Daddy! Can we get this?
Me: Wow, that is really gigantic, but I think you already have enough arts and crafts supplies at home.
Celia: Ooooh but I love it!

This would become a theme. We left with presents for other people, but not for her. She seemed ok with this.

Next up was the Burlington Mall, where we were on the lookout for a small travel bag for Cristina and some jewelry for Natalia (again, from Celia). We started at Macy's. Neither of us found the bag I was looking for, but once again, Celia found something that she liked. This time it was a small purple Kipling purse that caught her eye.

Celia: Daddy look! Isn't it so beautiful?
Me: It is, but remember that we are shopping for other people today!
Celia: I know, but I just love it.
Me: I know you do. It is a really cute bag.
Celia: Well, can I get it?
Me: No, not today.
Celia: But this is the last one! And if we don't get it then someone else will get it, and then I won't have it and I'll be sad.

How could I say no to her? It was tough. I really wanted to get her that bag. She is such a fun kid, and I know she already had plans for how she would use it. What parent doesn't wan to spoil their kids a little? But I held firm, and the bag stayed on the rack.

With two stores and two disappointments behind us, the roles were firmly established: Celia felt free to ask for whatever she wanted, full well knowing that my default stance was "no." It gave a nice predictability to our afternoon.

In the jewelry section at Macy's:

Celia: Daddy can I get this bracelet?
Me: No Celia. We're shopping for mama.
Celia: Well I love it and I'm not going to take it off.
Me: Well I hope you brought your money with you.

Passing by the Build-a-Bear workshop:

Celia: Daddy can we go in here?
Me: Sure, but we're not going to get anything.
Celia: Ok.
[30 seconds later]
Celia: Daddy can we get a Build-a-Bear someday?
Me: Maybe someday.

At Nordstrom:

Celia: Daddy can I get this Elsa backpack?
Me: No, honey, I'm sorry.
Celia: Can I carry it around a little bit because I love it so much?
Me: Sure.

Shopping-wise, the trip was a bust. Celia did find some jewelry for Natalia, but we didn't find the travel bag, which was the big reason we drove up in the first place. A Sunday afternoon spent at the mall with little to show for it.

But that time with Celia was so precious. She was a perfect companion. We walked through the mall talking about her siblings and preschool and what she wanted for Christmas. At Nordstrom, we danced to holiday music. At Sears, we played hide-and-seek in the luggage department.

After leaving four stores empty-handed, I realized that our search for the bag would likely end in failure. It would have been easier to just go home and order it online. But I kept going; I was having too good of a time with Celia. Every store we visited gave me a few more minutes with Celia. It was worth it.