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If There was Ever Any Doubt…

…here’s proof that I am not a “fun mom“.

My kids don’t believe in Santa. And they never have. I never did as a child, by the time I was born, my oldest brother was almost seven years old and I think my parents were just over it.

Joshua has lots and lots of older cousins who know Santa isn’t real, and basically, I was too lazy to go into all the effort to fool him and thereby have robbed him of an element crucial to the magic of childhood.

Oh, well.

The problem is, Joshua kind of likes the idea of Santa. He knows Mommy and Daddy hook him up with presents, but he wouldn’t mind ol’ St. Nick hooking him up with a few more. A few days before Christmas he asked me hopefully, “Mommy, is Santa really not real?”

“He’s a real person who lived hundreds of years ago. His name was St. Nicholas.”

“So he’s dead?”

“Umm…yeah.”

Many of Joshua’s friends at school, including his carpool buddy Ethan, still believe. (Part of the reason he asked me that last question, I am sure, because totally, if his friends think Santa is real, he must be! Surely Mommy is just holding out on him!) So the day after we had the above conversation, we were in the car, and Joshua says, “Mommy, can I tell Ethan Santa’s dead? ‘Cause he’ll understand.”

Oops.

“NO! Do NOT tell Ethan Santa’s dead! You need to wait til his mommy & daddy decide to tell him!”

So, before we went to Christmas at our grandma’s house on Christmas Day, I had to instruct Joshua not to tell his cousin Kate that Santa is dead.

‘Cause really, Emily would KILL me. And that would have really put a damper on Christmas! And on my career as a “fun mom”.

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Totally unrelated, for a great 2009 recap of world news, check out my Uncle Paul’s blog today! Hilarious!

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Little full, lotta sap.

clark griswold
Before Christmas, I had this post circling around in my brain about how much I want to like putting up the Christmas tree and all the accompanying decorations, but how tedious I truly find it. In my head, the act of decorating the tree involves much more hot chocolate much less swearing than it does in real life. I never wrote the post, but in retrospect, I realize that I had nothing to complain about then.

Because really? Putting the Christmas tree up is nowhere near as annoying as taking it down.

I intended to take it down on Saturday, as we went out of town Sunday and Monday and I thought it would be just swell to have it done when we got home. However, I spent all day wiggling my nose and believe it or not the ornaments didn’t go flying off and the tree didn’t fold itself up and no one came over to put it away while we were gone, so here it stands.

I really, really don’t want to deal with it. It’s one of those things that’s not such a huge deal once it’s actually underway, but it seems insurmountable before it’s started. It really won’t take me that long to do it… logically, I know these things. But I just don’t want to do it.

So now I’m thinking that maybe I just won’t take it down. I thought about changing it with the seasons – a Valentine’s tree and then an Easter tree and before we know it, we’re back to Christmas… but that seems like an awful lot of work. My friend Emilie told me about a family she knew that pulled a trash bag up over the tree, stuck it in the garage, and pulled it out ready to go the next year. Perhaps I will go that route.

I’m sure I will get to it eventually, despite how much I am dreading it. But when I do, I’m certain the cuss words will outnumber the cups of hot chocolate by an exponential count.

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