It's That Time of Year, Again.

~ This is a PG rated post for refernces to the existence and/or non-existence of certain literary and traditional persons.~

    I always knew I would teach my kids a certain way about Christmas, Easter, and the deciduous teeth (ask your dentist).  My mom used the Santa Claus to be mean to me and my cousin got his heart broken on the playground by the other kids when he was 10 (-ish).

   So then God in His Infinite Humor...

The girls have always done the opposite of what I expected, with my BS in Family Relations and Child Development and personal study of same with emphasis in Home Education.  We thought in our "We-aren't-parents-yet-but- we- know" thing that Santa took attention away from Jesus, created a spirit of greed in the holiday, and risked that your kids will think you are a liar generally.  Before you get mad...keep reading.

We always told them the guy in the red suit was named Santa Claus is a character we all pretend about... Shoot, I can't even remember how we worded it.  At any rate, the Christmas they were three, they pointed to all the images of St Nick and called him..."the snowman."

Fast forward about 3 years.  We are coming home LATE Christmas Eve from a party at the pastor's house.  Acorss town.  45 minutes from home.  The girls watched the lights going out in the grocery stores and gas stations.  They began to be worried about where their lame mom and dad were going to get the presents.  Mickey assured them that he would run down to the Texaco and get Christmas tree air fresheners and paper funnels and snicker bars.  Panic ensued as the girls realized Christmas was in jeopardy.  They didn't want THAT for Christmas and if they did, the gas stations were all closed.

The next morning, imagine their surprise to see bicycles and new coats and watches and goodies and...

Fast forward several months, I overhear from the backseat.

Type A:  Of course, there is a Santa.

Sister: No, Mom and Dad said.  They know.

Type A: There is too; think about it.

Sister:  No, There isn't. Mom and Dad wouldn't lie.

Type A:  On Christmas Night when we were coming home, everything was closed.  Then, in the morning, all that stuff was there. That did not come from the gas station.  And  mom never went anywhere.  There has to be a Santa.  They couldn't have pulled it off.

Sister: Hmm.



The kids are back in school.  Before you know it, stores will begin slipping in the Christmas stuff around the edges of the Halloween stuff.  Keep the magic alive.  Don't make your kids manufacture their own.

~I am Sharing My Awesome @Momma Made It Look Easy

PMM: Yes, I Do Too Have Them

I wrote this post and never posted it before I took a little blog break over the summer.  I am linking up today with Pround Mommy Moments at The Daily Dribbles


TGIF...

Last night, my husband got a text begging for people to come out and help to decorate for a wedding.  Mickey and the girls left here just before 8 in the evening and returned around 11:30.  Everyone had been encouraged that the MOTB would be at the church at ten this morning and would accept all the help she could get.

Ahem...

SOME people...who haven't dragged out of bed until as late as 9:30 in the past four months, were out at 7:15.  To ask if they could go help with the wedding preparations.

Yes, if you get all your chores done.

(Or if you sort of get your chores done.  Because whatever you do will be more than you usually do, and I will drop you off and get to clock out as "fairy wish granter", and you will be constructively engaged in a real world activity.  Puh.  Try NOT to go.)

Somewhere in the midst of all the choring and checking and unnecessary time spent in last moments of middle school pettiness...I realized how proud I am of my kids.  They can step up. 

I dropped them off as soon as we could get them there.  Their chores were done, and let's be serious.  We've got to get this couple married, here.  Small Fry and I ran errands.  Then we swung back by the church gym to them up.  The Bride saw me coming down the hill and stopped to thank me for sparing the girls today.  Her mother stopped and hugged me and thanked me and a distant relative thanked them profusely.

FOR HOW MUCH WORK THEY DID, HOW HELPFUL THEY WERE, AND HOW ORGANIZED THEY WERE.

Don't thank me.  I didn't have anything to do with it.


The gym looks...not like a gym, really.  If you squint.  But still really nice.

~it looked amazing by the time they were finished.~