It’s not long till Christmas, and amidst all the preparations I noticed yesterday that the “big” gifts for our little people have not yet been purchased.
They each receive that one “super big and awesome” gift, a bunch of smaller ones, and Christmas stockings crammed with candy and all sorts of gimmicky stuff.
So, I realized this while I was sorting through all the things I needed to pack and of course I panicked.
That was followed by a brief moment of guilt in which I repeatedly asked myself what kind of horrible parent gets so caught up in the pre-Christmas rush they forget to buy their childrens’ freaking Christmas presents!
I say brief because it lasted a few seconds before I realized that I’m not the freaking one who does the freaking “big gift” purchasing around this freaking time of the freaking year!
The small gifts and stocking stuffers are bought by me, but the “big gifts” are someone else’s self-assigned responsibility.
Who is the other parent.
That guy my kids call “Dad” (or “Daddy” when they want to appear innocent and sweet to get their way.)
Dad who hasn’t yet bought the gifts even though he always suggests the big gift each year, then spends a lot of time convincing me it will be perfect for them and will I please stop being such a nag and thinking they’re too young for things like tablets or touch screen cellphones when clearly their inherited genes have more than proven they’re practically university level even though they’re only nine. Besides, a tablet will be like the coolest gift ever and I should get with the times!
Also known as The Over Indulgent but Forgetful One.
So, I continued my sorting the best I could, calmed myself, looked over at the unmoving person on my bed and was all like “Hey, so when are you going to get the kids gifts?”
“OK, but time is short. Just a reminder. No pressure.”
Translation: Soon is not good enough! And, hell yes this is pressure and you better get going, like NOW. Find a shop. Buy presents. Prevent wifely high blood pressure.
“I’ll get them soon. The tablets and phones, right?”
Pause for effect.
“Umm…. and phones?”
“I thought you said we should get them tablets and phones.”
Abandon sorting. Abandon calmness. Pause to splutter.
“I said? When did I say we’re going to get them tablets and phones? When did I even say tablets?”
“You said tablets.”
“I did not say tablets! You convinced me that tablets were a good gift to give them. It took you weeks but I eventually and very grudgingly agreed remember?”
“Those discussions were about iPads.”
“Which are tablets.”
“Now you’re just making Steve Jobs cry in hell.”
And, soon you might just join him there so you both can hold hands and have a good cry together.
“Will you please just get the freaking gifts? Time is running out and I have to pack them. You’re messing with my packing.”
“Yes, because tablets are so big and will take up so much space and oh my God if it’s a little late how terrible would that be for the suitcase!”
Moments of silence.
“The tablets and the phones right?”
“Do you want me to throw a suitcase at you?”
So, this is what happens in my house every year. I mean it. Every.single.year.
He will put it all off till the very end which of course results in several of my blood vessels popping all over the place.
But gift giving is a big Christmas tradition, and it’s really the one time in the whole year when I let go of my Mommy hangups and give into the over indulgence.
We start with the kids writing letters to Santa weeks before, adding in their wish lists, and then on Christmas Eve they hang up their stockings, leave out a dish of homemade cookies (always chocolate chip and ginger snaps) and a glass of milk, and then they trot off to bed all starry eyed and filled with excitement.
The huz and I wait for them to fall asleep, and then it’s time to stuff the stockings and arrange the presents under the tree.
The looks on their faces on Christmas morning when they charge out of their beds and spot their presents, is priceless.
And, really, we both don’t care that the fat, red-suited bastard gets all the credit in the end.
We know we don’t have long before the fantasy will end for the little people, so we’ve made the most of it and will do so for as long as we can.
Christmas is for kids.
It’s also a time for wonder and magic. And, while there are some people who insist that telling your kids Santa is real is nothing but lying to them, my husband and I don’t agree.
Personally, I just snort and roll my eyes when I hear stuff like that. I don’t see how allowing your child to imagine and enjoy something magical can be called a lie. It’s hardly going to traumatize them once they grow up and know otherwise.
Honestly, how many adults do we know who need therapy or pop anti-depressants daily because they’ve never gotten over how their parents lied to them about Santa Claus?
If there must be an issue to gnash teeth over and/or people want to rally for the whole truth and nothing but the truth, how about sparing a thought and deed (see: gifts) for some of the millions of less fortunate children out there who won’t have a magical and wonderful Christmas?
Wouldn’t it be just awesome if you could let those kids know the truth that human beings
are not all selfish, self-absorbed, snot-nosed douchebuckets actually care about them?
Wouldn’t it all ye lovers of truth and haters of Christmas lies?
I love Christmas presents. I love giving them as much as I love receiving them.
And, I love the idea of Santa and all the other magic of the season. – There is enough strife and tragedy in this world, enough troubles and woe in everyone’s lives, enough madness and evil to contend with, and enough harsh truths lobbed at all of us each day of the year.
So, if there is one time where people and children alike can let it all go and just bask in cheer and joy, and a lot of fantasy which is visible almost everywhere this time of year, what’s the harm in it? It’s what they should do, because everyone deserves a little magic and wonder.
So, lie your ass off this Christmas.
Lie to your kids and lie to yourself if you want to. Tell one and all that Reindeer really can fly, and Frosty the Snowman never melted away into a puddle, and that elves get paid with gold nuggets in Santa’s
Revel in the magic.
And, have yourself a Merry Little Christmas time.