Talk about how things are not always what they seem because I manipulated this image a bit to get it to look like it does. Stuff along the lines of the eye sees and the mind believes.
You know. All that deep stuff for the holidays. (I really want to say 'shit', but I feel like I've been swearing on here a lot, and that's not super Christmas-y of me, so...you know....)
And then I went to help out in my daughter's class. They were making gingerbread men and the teacher asked if I would come in and take a few pics.
Sure. The Art Of Gingerbread. I can see that. No prob.
So, I'm standing there talking to these two other moms, which is always a dangerous proposition, because other moms have a knack for making me feel like I'm doing a crappy job with my kids because they have holes in their pants, flippy hair, no outside activities, no pets, no grandiose experiences, and really don't even know what the word grandiose means. Generally speaking, I try to avoid conversing with other moms at all costs, but when you're trapped in a Kindergarten classroom, even the lens can't hide your face from the battle.
Anyway, this one mom starts talking about how her 5th grade son has totally convinced her Kindergartener that there is no Santa, and that now her 5 year-old is telling anyone who will listen that Santa isn't real, and she (the mom) is getting all kinds of dirty reactions from the cookie counter people at the grocery store for letting the cat out of the bag to her kid.
And I'm thinking, Wow. You take your kids to the cookie counter?
Then the other mom starts talking about how she doesn't know how she would deal with that and she's just so glad that both of her kids are so close in age, and they both still believe in Santa, and how she explains to them that non-believers are people who have forgotten the magic like the little boy in Polar Express, and how they sit around every night singing carols and drinking cocoa and trying to guess what's in every present that's wrapped under the tree, and then they make it snow inside their house and it's just a big warm, fuzzy, winter wonderland extravaganza!@#!
Bleahhhh......
And now I'm thinking....shit.
I don't do Elf on the Shelf.
I haven't watched Polar Express with my kids in...like....since it came out on DVD.
I take them to see Santa on a weekday after school because it's totally not crowded then, and I don't have their pictures taken, because why should I pay someone else to take pictures of them? That's stupid, but the Santa House people won't let me bring in my own camera.
I only let them have half a piece of fudge as a snack because if they eat too much there won't be enough left for my breakfast.
I've never even really told them the true story of Christmas. In fact, the other night when I was reading a book to my daughter, the snowmen were singing a song about the birth of a king, and she wanted to know who the king was, and I said "Jesus", and she said, "Who's she?"
And now my son is in 4th grade in one of those 4th/5th split classes, so he's probably finding out from all of these other punks that the notes left behind from Santa each year have really been written by me in my left hand so it doesn't look like my handwriting.
It's over. The magic of Christmas is gone for him and it will never come back.
And he's probably going to spill it to his sister, and then I'll be the crappy mom at the cookie counter with a 5 year-old who knows that I'm the one who eats all the treats left by the fireplace on Christmas Eve.
I'm devastated.
But, I took them to see Santa anyway. I figured if it is his last year, I should probably do it up right.
So, we're standing outside the Santa House on Thursday afternoon. We had about an 8 minute wait, so we had time to chat, and my son says,
"Mom, do you know that no one in my class believes in Santa anymore."
Great. Here it comes.
"They all think it's their parents. Can you believe that?"
Can I. Believe. That? Where do I go here?
Maybe I can stall.
"Well," I said. "What do you think about that?"
"I think it's amazing that Santa still brings them presents even when they don't believe in him. He's a good guy."
What?
"Even when I grow up, I'm still going to believe in Santa."
Huh?
"I'm never going to stop believing in him."
YAY!!! The Grinch's heart grew three sizes! An angel got her wings! Santa made it all the way around the world in one night and still had time for a nap and a round of golf with the Easter Bunny.
The Christmas magic is still rockin' the party.
"He's the best."
No, my little love bundle. You are.
But, I'm still not letting you play German rescue hero games on my computer. I'm not that Not-Crappy....
And P.S.
The Art of Gingerbread
Love and Festive Colors and Winter Wonderland Extravaganza wishes and dreams to you all!!!
Me.
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