You see, down here in the Lone Star state, it's a springtime right of passage to photograph your child in the bluebonnets. What are bluebonnets? If you ask my dad, they're "stupid girly weeds". If you ask Texas, they're her blueish purple state flower. If you ask me they're the devil, because in my quest to assimilate by getting some shots of A amongst these things, I ended up with red welts on my hiney.
Let me back up. I was originally disinterested in this Texan bluebonnet picture tradition. But as each of my Texan friends proudly showed off their baby smiling amongst the bonnets, and when we spotted a few families out along the roadside taking bluebonnet pics on Monday, I started to crack. So this afternoon, when A woke early from his nap and we had a half hour to kill, I dressed Mister A in his finest Ralph Lauren and headed out. Not to a field, because I have no idea how to find a bluebonnet field. But there's a big patch of purple flowers near our house, I figured it would do. I also made the assumption that any ugly-ish purple flowers growing in Texas = bluebonnets. Foreshadowing, my friends, stay with me. We arrived, I spread a blanket out so A wouldn't come in contact with nature and squatted down low to get to his eye level. Then fell backward onto my derriere. Now's when I sheepishly admit I was wearing shorts. SHORT workout shorts. I wore shorts to a field full of weeds because
I'm an idiot it's laundry day. So I just stayed there with my behind exposed to the ground, snapping (really bad) shots of A looking totally baffled and somewhat annoyed. Squinty too. This was starting to seem like a dumb idea. And is it just me, or is my hiney starting to itch? I clicked on. About two minutes later, I felt a tingly, mildly itchy sensation from my legs to my lower hiney. And about two seconds after that, it started to burn SO badly that I leaped to my feet and shrieked, pretty sure some awful swarm of insects was feasting on my rear. This startled A, who (bad mommy alert) toppled forward off the edge of the blanket and scraped his forehead on the stupid weeds. Now we're both near tears, I've got 13 sucky photos, and I'm totally over this stupid flower thing.
A was fine as soon as I wiped his forehead and handed over the Whoozit. But mama? Not so fine. Burning and itching don't exactly do my malady justice. More like "try really hard not to scare the bejeebies out of A by screaming in anguish and get home as fast as you can to rip these shorts off and make this torture stop". It required a good 20 minute soak in a cool tub full of baking soda to start to feel slightly less like I might die, while A sat in his exersaucer quietly eying me with what I swear was an "I told you that was a dumb idea" look.
Oh, but wait. The dumbest part is still coming.
THEY WEREN'T EVEN BLUEBONNETS. I found out later it was lavender. (Thank you, FireChiefsBride.) My only bluebonnet spotting experience was, well, looking those photos I was telling you about and having J point out patches of blueish purple flowers and say "look, honey, bluebonnets!" I really should have done some google research. But this is my style- I get an idea, I run with it, no time to ask questions or rethink. Most times, this quick thinking works in my favor. Today, it welted my hiney and netted some really fugly pictures of my poor kid in some dumb looking weeds.
I should have listened to my dad and stayed away from the weeds. Mark my words: NEVER AGAIN. I'm hereby announcing my personal bluebonnet ban. A will probably have his Texan card yanked later in life when he's unable to produce any "baby in a bluebonnet" photos. So be it, he can point back to this post (forever in internetland) and blame his northern mother.
And no, I won't share the awful photos of A in a bunch of weeds. I can't believe I even shared this story. But no pictures. I've got some pride.
But I will share this evidence that I'm not totally brainless. I mean, can you sort of see why I got confused?