One of my favorite traditions is decorating the tree. When I was a kid, it was a special time when my family would gather together and put ornaments up while eating homemade fudge and listening to Christmas music. And, at the end, we'd have a beautifully decorated tree. That's the expectation. That's the vibe I am going for.
The reality... is halfhearted attempts by the teenagers, a reluctant VikingDad, the little kids so full of energy that they can't stop jumping and shouting and putting ornaments all in one spot, cats chewing on the lights, and then there's me: trying to hold the family together (and swearing. There's some swearing involved). And the tree? Well, it's definitely less than perfect, but it's a tree that I worked hard for and therefore beautiful to me.
And then there's Santa. I never expected that I would be the sort of parent who would encourage their children to believe in Santa. I never told my kids that Santa was real. I never even told them about Santa at all. And yet, they came home from school believing that he would show up and put presents under the tree... and I didn't have the heart to tell them that he's not real and crush their little 3 and 4 year old hearts forever.
So I've been writing some presents "from Santa" for a few years now. Not the big ones. Not the expensive ones. I deserve all the credit for getting those fucking expensive and hard to find gifts. (My kids, thankfully, did not care at all about "Hatchimals".... yes!!) But WildBoy did want a kids' tablet this year, and I'll be damned if I'm going to go through all the trouble researching which tablet is the best and also least expensive, reading all the reviews, saving up to buy the thing, waiting around all day to sign for the package, hiding it, and wrapping it, only to have my kid thank an imaginary old fart from the North Pole. I don't think so.
But I do give them a couple "from Santa" presents just to keep them from having their imaginations crushed under the heavy hammer of reality.
But this year, we were spending Christmas Eve with VikingGrandma/Grandpa, so I put the "from Santa" presents under the tree on Christmas Eve eve (not wanting to haul all those presents to a different location), thinking that the kids would wake up, see the presents, open them, and start playing with them before I even wake up on Christmas Eve. Nope. They didn't even notice them.
The day went on and, amazingly enough, they failed to notice the presents under the tree at all! (Despite finding the hidden one in the back of the closet the day before.) I was flabbergasted. Eventually, I got tired of waiting for them to notice the obvious gifts, and I told them to look under the tree. They then commenced to tear the wrappings open and play.
We had a great time at VikingGrandma/Grandpa's house at Christmas. Gifts were opened and played with, food was eaten (good food cooked by someone other than me), and we sat around the TV watching the UFC. Good times.
And VikingGrandma got WildBoy and WildGirl lightsabers. Unsurprisingly, they enjoy whacking each other with them. This morning they changed into bathrobes after their bath and had a very fun and very loud lightsaber duel.
Because my kids are awesome like that.
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