Sunday, October 28, 2012

Conversations with Hard Truths

This morning in a random rabbit chasing conversation, we were discussing Santa, and how it drives me crazy that some Christian families make Santa this evil Jesus stealer.  It sort of gets my back up.  Now, I wrestled with the whole Santa issue when our kids were little and Brent said "Did you have Santa as a kid?  Yes, you did.  Did you think Christmas was about Santa or Jesus?  Did you stop believing in Jesus when you realized Santa wasn't real?  Do you really want to steal the excitement and magic of Santa from our kids?"

And with all of those questions with their obvious answers, we decided to do the Santa thing.

And it has been a blast.

Anyhoo, we were discussing the whole "evil Santa," which I was trying to do in code as our little Popcorn has never expressed any Santa doubts, and Brent was ignoring me and making the whole thing OBVIOUS, when Popcorn said, "Why would Santa be bad?"

So, my husband says "Well you don't believe in that whole Santa come down the chimney thing anyway, do you?"

And she replied, "Well, not since you said it that way."  And she gave this horrible little strangled giggle and big wet puddles formed in her eyes, but she forced this big stiff grin across her face and continued to say "It's okay," and fake laugh as I started to cry and berate my husband for being a big ole spoiler, joy stealer, and general Grinch in human form.

Grrr...

So, we talked about how MY MOM did the same thing to me.  She thought I was faking that I believed in Santa, and was appalled when I was devastated by her harsh truth.  Of course, I was like 12 years old or something.



So, all in all it was okay.  She will be sad for a while, but I promised to still give her Santa gifts, and she said she had wondered if he was real, but then figured there was NO WAY we would actually buy her the stuff Santa brought, so therefore he must be real.

And I must say that kind of baffled me, because I always give the big gifts from US and the little stuff from Santa, and Santa only ever brought one gift, not counting their stocking, so that logic doesn't quite balance out in my head...

After the kids went to their room to play Barbies, I told Studmuffin I really needed to do a blog on conversations, and how they can go so wrong.

I still like to spoil my kids by fixing their breakfast in the morning if I have time.  Even if it's making a frozen waffle.  I can spread the peanut butter and pour the syrup and cut it up just so, and they are convinced it tastes better if I do it.  I don't often have time, due to having to leave for work early, but when I can, I still like to pamper them.  Especially as I realize how fleeting their childhood is, and they will be gone before I know it.

Anyway, this week I had been unable to sleep past 4:30am, so I was up, fed, dressed, Bible study done before I even woke them.  I had made Bookworms breakfast, but Popcorn was having wardrobe drama and had ended up coming in the kitchen to slouch in defeat on her stool "I have nothing to wear."  I ignored her lamentation and said, "Do you want hot Grape Nuts, oatmeal, or blueberry waffles?"

"Waffles."

So, I popped her highly nutritious Nutrigrain frozen waffles in and ran to gather up a load of laundry to start before we had to run out the door.  I was in my bathroom sorting the piles when I heard, "Mom!  My waffles popped!"

I came into the kitchen carrying a basket of laundry, found her little body unmoved and still slumped on her stool and said, "Seriously!  Do you know how to spell 'worthless?'"

And without even a hint of a pause for thought she replied, "M-O-M."

And while I might ought to have scolded her smart mouth, I laughed and fixed her waffle with just the perfect amount of peanut butter (which is LOTS) and a small drizzle of syrup, cut it up just so, left the second one plain, as is her preference, and handed her plate to her.

Because sometimes you just have to laugh and enjoy the spirit in which something is said, and know their is no heart behind it.


 And isn't laughter with your kids one of the greatest treasures you can receive?



3 comments:

Paula said...

Teary. So sad that is behind you now. sniff

Anonymous said...

And someday she will have a child and possible the same thing will happen. I was only 6 when my sister informed that it was just a fantasy. M

Megan said...

Okay, I have no memory of actually believing in Santa and this post still made me very sad.