Saturday, December 19, 2015

Why we believe in Santa


When I was little, Christmas was a two week long festival. Our decorated house was comparable to the Griswolds and our home was loud and always full of people. My parent's had a plastic table cloth on our usual bare dining room table everyday from mid December until New Years day. They had coffee Christmas cups and Christmas plates stacked on the table with creamer and sugar and lots of Christmas cookies for all our friends and family that would stop by. Christmas music always played on the radio. As each night everyone would sing Christmas carols, tell stories of Christmas past, and indulge in typical everyday conversations. Even the little kids sat around the table with all the adults and were part of the love.

When I was very little, Santa arrived on Christmas Eve to deliver our presents. We would have dinner at my grandparent's house and upon arrival back home, Santa would be sitting in the rocking chair with presents surrounding him. Santa, of course, was my poppy (the one who left dinner early to get a head start). Our thoughts of Santa were that he was a jolly, kind fellow, who had the soul of a saint. My brother and I would flock to him without hesitation, as we would talk about our Christmas wishes. He stayed until all our presents were opened and hugged us goodbye as he rode off in his sled, back to the North Pole.

I could remember being older and trembling with excitement as I patiently waited to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. The evening took FOREVER to pass and when I was finally dressed in my Christmas jammies, I couldn't stop the nervous jitters, as I lied in my bed. Before we were able to read, my mom would read us Christmas stories and even as I aged, I then read myself Christmas stories. Eventually, Christmas morning arrived and Santa never disappointed.

When I look back over my childhood memories of Christmas, the parts most prevalent are not of all the toys, but the magic behind it all. The routine of friends and family gathering, the colorful Christmas lights shining in the background, Christmas music on loop, and wonderful conversations with lots of food. To me, believing in Santa meant believing in the magic that made Christmas so joyful. The anticipation of a generous man stopping in our home to bring us presents and believing in something bigger than just December 25.

The proof in that statement is evident when I stopped believing in Santa. I still received present from my parents, however, the joy was all gone. There wasn't a surge of jitters on Christmas Eve. The excitement fell to the waste side. It turned out, Christmas was just December 25. A holiday where family gathered together like all the other holidays, but nothing more.   

However, the magic eventually revived itself when my children were born. Each Christmas, I am able to relive those same feelings I had when I was a child. The joy and anticipation on Christmas Eve is just as prevalent now as it was then. Anymore, Christmas isn't just another day, it's magic again.

Santa is the main event in my home for my two children. We decorate the entire house the week before Thanksgiving and our tree and village is set up the Saturday after. Christmas music is on loop and our doorways are strung with green garland and encapsulated with colored lights. And each of us has a decorated tree in our bedrooms. If I close my eyes long enough, I feel like I am a child again myself. 

Presently, we continue the same traditions with my children, that we had when I was a child. My parents and brother come over to my home for Christmas Eve dinner. But before dinner, my children and I have the laptop open to the Santa tracker and we watch as he travels over the areas. I tell them he's getting close and he'll be here after they're both sound to sleep. Our conversation becomes interrupted by the sound of sleigh bells outside our door. Both of my children pause, trying to absorb what they're hearing, then quickly glance back at the tracker. We all run to the door, already knowing what to expect, as we see Santa standing there with a sack of toys. (Santa, being my brother, who is kind enough to continue the tradition). He tells them he was off delivering presents, but saw how beautifully our home was decorated and wanted to stop by to see both of them, while they were awake. He sits on the couch and talks with both children about what they wanted. (We never mention the good and bad concept, I'm not fond of that idea). He hands them some wrapped packages and stays until they are opened. He bids them farewell and tells them to sleep well, and leave lots of milk and cookies, because he'll be back in a few hours.

*We were actually going to stop doing the Santa arrival this year, because we were worried my daughter would know it was my brother. However, my daughter has talked so much about how she hopes Santa stops by to see her and her brother, because she loves him so much. So, we decided to do it again. Although, Santa will be wearing some sunglasses and a higher beard to block most of his face.*

They then dress in their Christmas jammies and are read countless Christmas stories, before awaiting the arrival of the big morning surge...

In addition to the magic of Santa, this year, I've also added even more magic to the season. We have two kindness elves that have arrived, a boy and a girl. They are here to help my children continue to appreciate all the non materialistic things that life has to offer. The elves also used their elf magic to build a door that allows them access in and out of our home, so they can return back to their own home at night and spend time with their loved ones. Unlike the elf on a shelf, these elves do not get into mischief, but instead, encourage helpful, kind, and thoughtful behaviors. They are allowed to be touch and even encourage lots of hugs and kisses. They are not in our home to spy on my children and report back to Santa, but instead, are here to join our family and celebrate the Christmas season with us. 


In our family, the same traditions are passed down from each generation. And I'm sure when my children look back upon these years, they'll remember the love that was shared, not just how much they received. Toys are only a small bonus for Christmas. To my children, it's the decorating, the cookie making, the elves arriving, the anticipation, the joy of seeing Santa, and all the family and friends stopping by to spend quality time with us. Christmas is a feeling that you get around the middle of December. It's not something you can touch or see. It's within you. Additionally, it's something I want my children to always have. To have the mindset to believe in something that they cannot see, but feel in their hearts. And when they grow older and stop believing in Santa, I'm sure they won't feel like they were lied to, but instead, they'll know the magic of Santa has always existed. 

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Mid Week Revelation: Exemplary hearing sense

Being a mother has heightened my hearing sense to a whole different level. From a dead sleep, I not only can hear every detailed noise from my children, but I can also hear a candy wrapper being opened from a completely different floor... Motherhood.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Ghost of librarys past


We entered the double doors, hand in hand, not minding the passerbys as we skipped our way through the corridor. Slowing our pace once our feet touched the worn carpet below. The library always has a wonderful vintage scent and everyone is quiet, too quiet. The only sounds heard are those of typing fingers and of books being heavily placed onto tables. My son and I quietly scooted past the adults section, walked through the doors into the sealed off children's room. This room has a much different lively feeling. Very colorful, and no adults glaring in our direction. My son immediately breaks free of my hand and runs down the isle, reaching his favorite section. He scans each row of books, hunting for the precise book he wants. He can't read, but he's familiar with the general whereabouts of his interested books. 

It doesn't seem that long ago, when my daughter and I would burst into this same section of the library, like she was entering Disney for the first time. We would spend countless hours just sifting through books and playing with the tall cardboard blocks. I would read the random books that she would hand me. We would finish some, but most of the time she would walk off and become distracted by another book. I could still picture her gently rocking back and forth as she was captivated by a book she pulled from the shelf.

Today, my son and I stand in that same section, while she's away at kindergarten. She's off with her friends, creating new memories in a completely different library, away from mommy. I have a hard time moving on from past memories. They seem to come and go so quickly, I hardly have time to enjoy them. My daydream was interrupted by my son handing me a Pinkalicious book and says, "read this one mommy." I smile at the precious little boy that stands before me and I nestle closely into him, as I gladly continue the circle of our library experience. Holding onto the opportunity as long as I can.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Mid Week Revelation: Cookie thief

I'm incredibly grateful that my children would both choose fruit and veggies over a cookie any day. However, I wish I had that kind of behavior. I wouldn't only take the cookie. I'd take the entire batch and hide in the closet and quickly eat them all by myself. So subconsciously, I may have instilled those habits on them to save more cookies for myself... Motherhood.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

A day away brings forth a revelation


I quietly packed a bag as I maneuvered myself around my home, trying my hardest not to be seen by my children. The phone rung in the background and I immediately opened my hand, dropping the contents on the floor, as I reached for the phone. My mom called, asking to speak with my daughter to invite her over for the day, after previously confirming the details with me... She eagerly obliged. 

When she was younger, she always went to their house for daily trips and random sleep overs, with just the three of them. They were known as, Nana and Poppy days...

I continued packing the day bag for her to take along, until my son walked up behind me and asked what I was doing. I tried my best to change the subject or distract him from the bag, not knowing for sure what his reaction would be if he knew.

Within minutes, my german shepherd was barking at the back door in excitement as my parents walked up the driveway. Both my children ran their little legs down the stairs to the back door in seconds flat, only stopping once caught by nana and poppy's arms.

My son immediately asked why they were there, looking confused and a little worried. My daughter instinctively said she was going to spend the day with them (Without hesitating because her brother never minded previously). My son replied back, "I'm going too?" Then, my mom answered, "not today." It was in that moment, my son broke down crying. It wasn't a tantrum crying because he didn't get his way. Instead, it was a heart broken cry. I assume because it's been months since he has went anywhere without her and he's also getting older now. We all stood around him as his sister hugged him tightly and told him how much she loved him. She rubbed his back as he cried and told him funny jokes, just trying to cheer him up. Then she turned to her nana and poppy and asked if he could join them on their Nana and Poppy day. My parent's answered yes, without question. Hearing that, his little red eyes perked open and his mouth widened with joy. He clapped his hands together and squeezed his sister tighter.

I helped them into their car seats, as I said my goodbyes, kissing and hugging them a few dozen times too many. As they drove down the driveway, I waved my hand, watching the smiles on both my children's faces grow, as their car faded down the street.

I stood there in the freezing cold, with my bare feet touching the concrete and goosebumps on my exposed arms. I was incredibly proud of my daughter. She's always with her brother, every minute of everyday. And she looks forward to this special time away from us, with her beloved nana and poppy. However, her love for her brother is much deeper than a single day away. In the end, she choose her brother's feelings over her own. And I was speechless in that moment, when I realized she is only 5 years old.

When they arrived back home, a few hours later, I ran to the car. I was beyond excited to see my two favorite people in the world. My son sat in his car seat all proud and happy -he's never spent a whole day away from me prior. And my daughter was just as happy as him. She hugged him again and said she had the best day with him and she wouldn't have enjoyed a single second of it without him. He said, "thank you" and told her that he loved her.

I hovered in the background, watching this unbelievably precious moment unfold before my eyes...

The beginning was a rocky start for these two. My daughter had a very hard time adjusting to sharing me with her new brother and didn't like that this new baby was staying. But as time passed, relationships formed. And right now, in this very moment, that little boy means more to her than anyone or anything else... They are more than just brother and sister, they are best friends. And I'm the lucky mom who gets to witness them together.


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Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Mid Week Revelation: How many is too many questions?

I'm not sure if there is a maximum allowance of questions toddlers can ask in one day, but if there is, I'm pretty sure my son is exceeding it... Motherhood, it's not for the weak.