poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Friday, December 24, 2010

To all the Santa's

Reading a post over at Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot by Jess about whether to tell kids if Santa is real or not, brought about my own Santa related memories.

I don't ever remember believing in Santa.
I think I had it figured out between 4 and 5 years old.
I half recall seeing my parents put gifts under the tree in a multicolored-lit room and whether that memory is true or not--I know that is my earliest memory of Christmas and my own Santa-parents.
And if I wasn't 100% positive of Santa's aliveness or not, when new neighbors moved at 5 years old and the oldest brother took me down the street, behind a bush and questioned me:

Do you believe in Santa?
Do you know who Santa is?  Real Santa?
 Well.... my Mom and Dad? (Really I was going out on a limb here but he kinda led me there because in reality...who else could've have it been?)

And then he continued to tell me his little 4 year old sister, who became my BFF, didn't know and I better not tell her.  Or else?  Or else I would have had to deal with him and he was protecting his little sister. 

End of any Santa disbelief or belief.

Fast forward 20 plus years to my own daughters.
My oldest started asking whether Santa was real when she was about 4 years old.
My answer was "Well what do you think?" which generally led to some sweet conversation.
Then one snow-filled-almost-Christmas-time evening, we were going through our
"What do you think?" When she told me (more or less):
I think that Santa dresses up in normal clothes so that when he goes shopping no one
recognizes him..like he's just a regular person, but then he goes back and becomes Santa.

 I knew we were honing in on the end.
Within days she started linking the tooth fairy and the easter bunny and anything else fantastical together.
She got it.
And honestly I was thankful.
I could now live up the role of Santa without feeling like I was lying to her. 
Her sisters may not have ever truly believed because when the oldest sister knows..why not share the love? ... but I was less concerned over the long-term effects of knowing or not knowing, because it was all ok. 

Sadly funny and alittle ironic to the 5 year old left in me...during this time was the height of play-dates and acquintence moms.  Santa was the kind of topic that these moms liked to talk about...what an easy way to judge a parent, whether their child knew about Santa or not...when I had a mom tell me, because I non-guiltily admitted my girls all-knowing-ability, that my girls better not tell her kids.  Just like I better not tell my BFF so many years ago.

So much less cute though coming from a bully mom, rather than a big brother.

Merry Christmas to all the Santa's xoxxo

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Don't be mean to Grannie

I remembered very clearly why I may always hate Christmas shopping last night.
Was it the bumper-to-bumper carts sliding in front of me, trying to find the best deal?
Was it the woman talking extremely loud on her cell?
Was it the man wandering the aisles, avoiding his shopping talking on his cell?
Was it the rugs strung out in the middle of a narrow aisle,
not allowing me to take a short cut to get away from all the people???


All those reasons, though excrutiating, were the reason why I left
that store to opt for easy Christmas shopping...
stocking shopping at the next-door-dollar-store.

And which is exactly where I thought I might have to yell at someone if they didn't
stop yelling at their

Excuse me.
Yelling at your grandmother is hardly allowed.  In my case, it would have
NEVER even be thought of and I can't imagine the consciousness of it...
That said,  I'm sure there's some grandma out there that is just as mean and rotten as
this guy was...but clearly--this grandma was not one of them.

I'm in the craft aisle, attempting to find some marker or paper product my girls don't own, when
I hear "F**k" come from the next aisle.
Not thinking much of it, because it is Christmas and my best friends have sailor mouths, I go back to my happy-go-lucky-world when I heard the sister (I can only assume) tell him to keep his voice down because they're in public.
Of course, what the F**k does he care...he'll raise his voice if he wants to.
In pops Grandma's voice..and something about the time.
He insists he was home.
The sister half-hardily tries to stick up for him (because obviously he was lying)...
when he starts yelling at his grandma that she's a F**king liar..

Until I thought if he didn't stop, I was turning the corner and giving him a good
talking to...or getting the store manager or the biggest man I could find.

But he did stop.
And I heard her say, "If you don't like the rules, then move out."

The end.
I did turn the corner soon after..and she was the sweetest looking OLD grandma.
I didn't know--maybe she was a young 55 year old grandma raising her grandkids...
but NO...
an old one.

And then, as I continue looking for useless stocking stuffers--I SEE people.
Not through my usual rose colored Christmas glasses,
but clear lens all-the-way...not the visual I care to live.

I thought--this is why I hate Christmas shopping--
because you see the shadows of people I try to avoid.
No TV news.
No drama.
Actually hardly an TV at all.
But when you're face to face...or aisle to aisle with guys who are mean to their grannies,
well then...Christmas shopping isn't that much fun at all.
Who knows...maybe he didn't get enough hugs as a kid.
So for him...I hope he gets lots of hugs for christmas--no shopping required.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Merry Tired

I'm tired.
I know this is the time of the year I'm supposed to be full of cheer--but
I'm having a hard time locating the internal energy to actually bring about cheer.
I'm happy.
And honestly, I'm cheerful--but mostly ready to hibernate.
And see some sunshine.

But--seeing how it's just beginning to actual BE winter, I'm less than optimistic
that I'll be seeing alot of sunshine.  In reality, I really don't mind winter.  I love watching the peaceful snowflakes..the quiet walks..bundling up...but right now this
tiredness is killing it in me.

And being over-analytical-me, I wonder why am I feeling this way?
Granted I've had a cold for two weeks and my ears have decided to give me a new
pitch to listen to..but is it I'm still sick or just need rest.


I'm sure.
Which the idea of that makes me tired, because I haven't even started Christmas shopping and hmmm...could it be just days away?  And I have 3 girls to buy for.  And family.  And BD. 
That makes me tired just thinking getting myself geared up enough to go.

And no--I'm not depressed if anyone is wondering.  I've been down before--this is not it or the pre-mode to it...

Then there's work.
And yoga.
All things I love.

I've created a new goal with the two--but envision some tiredness to be able to get to my goal.  Not exhaustion.  Just growth. 

And then be less tired.
And then the sun will shine.
And then it will be spring.
Merry Friday.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Making Her Wait

My middle daughter turned 13 last week.
She is an amazing young woman...who like all kids/people--want things...oh say--like a Facebook page. 
She began asking for a Facebook around 12.
My rule was she needed to be 13.
I am not here to pass judgement on those who let their 8 year olds get FB pages, because I don't do that--plus I know people judge me just because I let my child get a page at all. 

Anyhow--My rule was 13.
First-- that's the rule because I think that's Facebooks rule and I try to stick to those kind of ideas in life...plus I didn't let my oldest have a page till she was 13.  So--needless to say, because I wouldn't let her have a page, we spent most of year 12 WANTING it so so bad.  Two weeks before her birthday she almost had me beat down, trying to convince me she was
And then she even gave me, well I could make a page and you wouldn't know.

Needless to say that comment didn't go over well.
Even my oldest told her I would know--
And I reassured her I always know these things and she would get in lottsa lottsa trouble (though didn't quite know what the punishment would be)...and she knew.
So--she stopped asking.

And then it was her birthday.
Two days later, I let her know she could make a page.
Oh yeh..I know--not right now...

And I knew I TRULY had done the right thing by sticking to my words.
Of course--I knew it as a parent, but KNEW it...

Then yesterday, 6 days after her birthday, she told me she wanted to make her page.
So--we did.
And we went through, friending who she wanted to (my rule also is she has to friend her parents + close family friends who have our best interest at heart) -- letting her finally talk to her friends online and create what she needs to--to be 13.

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

I haven't been writing too much lately.
Or reading too much either...no, that's not true.  I have been reading plenty
of tween, young adult and yoga books--but blogs and adult literature are
scarce these days.
And I find myself missing both.
They'll fall back into place--somewhere...blogs before literature--only because reading
blogs is more simple--but I worry about my attention span and vocabulary --or lack
of if I don't keep up...

Anyhow--here I am now.
In bed sick.
After an amazing weekend of becoming an official yoga teacher (according to whoever
thinks you need to be certified) and understanding what this means to be...
After discovering my  brother-in-law -former-  passed away this past week...leaving everyone too too early...
After  a sick day--for me, but spending part of the day getting rid of a nasty
computer virus...

But doing well overall...and hoping for good sleep...so I can get back to reading
more teen books tomorrow.
"Happiness is only real when shared".....from Into the Wild

Blog Archive