It’s Christmas Eve!
The girls are, well, excited.
For me, this Christmas is bitter sweet as it may be the last year Miss Q completely and fully believes in the big guy. At least I think she still does, after all, unprompted, she wrote a letter to him while at school. If the seams are beginning to show, she hasn’t let on.
On the commercial magic side of things, Miss Q has only asked for two items: Star Lily the Fur Real Unicorn and Book Seven of the Wings of Fire Series.
When we first saw Star Lily, it was August and she cost $99. In October, she increased her value to $137. November had her priced at $150.
It is here, gentle readers, that I dug in my heels and refused to purchase a large, robotic unicorn, who in my opinion would just sit in the corner collecting dust after the holidays. Though as my heart shrank three sizes, there was a small tug reminding me that it was probably her last pure request. How could we not honour that?
Fortunately my puzzler puzzled an amazing solution: blow Miss Q’s mind with a hamster on Christmas morn. Yes, the ol’ bait and switch. The only problem was I had to convince my husband I was responsible enough to look after the hamster.
Though they’re cute, I’m wary of the creatures, especially after my youngest brother’s hamster, G.P., lost all it’s fur and then lived forever, or when I hamster sat for a friend and became a 10 year-old murderer. No one told me hamsters could catch pneumonia if they got wet in their exercise ball.
Out out damn spot.
Miss Q would have ADORED a panda bear hamster.
I say would have, because we decided to go with the unicorn. Don’t have to feed it, or clean the cage. Unfortunately by the time we decided, the robot was sold out across Canada, and, cost between $220 and $400 on Amazon.
Plan ‘B’ was buying a stuffed dragon and the book.
Currently Miss Q’s sitting across from me frantically re-reading book six of the Wings Of Fire, so she’s ready to go if Santa brings her book seven. Funny how the perfect gifts are the simplest.
Miss S is literally the best age for Christmas. At six, she knows exactly what we’re supposed to do, and when we’re supposed to do it. Cookies for Santa, carrots for the reindeer, check and check.
She asked for a Maplelea Doll this year. In my opinion it was a left-field request, and once again, I found myself having long grinchy talks with my husband about the merit of spending $100 on a doll, when the girl owns a monkey farm.
For the record: our children don’t ask for anything when we walk through toy stores. Seriously, they don’t. This proves a problem when Christmas comes along, I feel like I have to show them catalogues and drag them to toy stores just to get them to make lists – which just feels like I’m petting a cat backwards.
So when it came to Miss S’s desire for a Maplelea doll, thanks Chirp Magazine for including the Maplelea catalogue with your September issue, I started casually showing Miss S cheaper, local options, for 18” dolls, but she didn’t take the bait.
This is why the most beautifully presented doll that I have ever seen, complete with a hairnet to protect her locks, sits wrapped under our tree. If I had received this doll when I was six, I wouldn’t have cared what trinkets Santa bestowed upon my friends. Miss S is right, she is perfect and I cannot wait to see Miss S’ face tomorrow morning – maybe she’ll even let me play with her.
Which brings us to Miss C, who would move to the South Pole to put distance between her and Santa if she could.
Oh, but don’t worry, she will welcome his gift of a pink tent. She wants to be able to sleep by herself in our back yard. “If I need to pee, I’ll just get up, put on my boots and walk over to your tent and tell you I’m going to the bathroom.”
We took Miss C to the Santa parade at the end of November. She knew what the parade was about. She knew she’d see Santa. However, as Santa came down the street, Miss C started glaring at me. “I told you I didn’t want to see him.”
“Who?” I said.
“Santa,” she replied.
Miss S spun around said, “I know it’s just a man dressed up in a red suit.” I’m not 100% on her next sentence as I was looking around to see who was listening, but I believe the gist was the real Santa was in the North Pole.
The whole way back to our car, Miss C’s bottom lip was out and she couldn’t get over the fact her rotten parents had taken her to see Santa.
Oh what a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive.
Fast forward. The mall. A week later.
In an attempt to desensitize my four-year-old from the Santa hate, I bought Miss C a drink and we sat on the bench at the mall watching Santa take pictures with kids.
After about 30-minutes of watching, we made it to the white fence used to cage Santa. Using a Christmas tree as our cover, we spied on him as he spoke to his assistants. I willed the elf with the camera to turn around and snap a pic of Miss C, in her red Christmas Minon sweater, peaking around my back.
Of course, Miss C had just started to relax, when Santa came to say hello.
Thankfully my arm stayed in its socket as Miss C tried to pull me back to the Food Court in order to get away from the red coat villain.
After that episode, I haven’t pushed Santa on my youngest. She is not happy that he can see her when she’s sleeping and knows when she’s awake. She says he’s a stranger and doesn’t know why other kids want to sit on his lap.
Point for Miss C.
Some people tell their children the truth about Santa from day one, but even with all the ups and downs and cloak ‘n daggering, I can’t bring myself to ruin the story.
Play, and imagination are so important in childhood; we owe it to them as parents to sprinkle magic where we can.
One of the most heart warming Santa moments this season was when Miss C and I volunteered in the Santa Shop at the elementary school. Watching the children come in with their money, sort out who they were buying for and what that person would like gave me such hope.
Which got me thinking: would we have so much goodness in the world this time of year without the legend of Santa?
From my family to yours, have a peaceful and merry Christmas.