The problem with Santa is…
It is what it is, and I’ve had to have a tricky conversation with my 2 year old about it this week, and I distinctly recall a Christmas Eve a couple of years back when my daughter wouldn’t go to sleep either, in floods of tears, afraid of Santa entering our home.
Stranger Danger does not apply with Santa, does it? We happily take our children along to chat to a man heavily in disguise, as it’s charming and magical. At no other time would we ever do this! So we have been, they have met him, and now it’s playing on my little boy’s mind.
Mention Santa to him now and he’ll shake his head quite vehemently, telling the enquirer that ‘no, Santa not coming our house’. Right, so you don’t want him to bring you any presents then? ‘yes, not our house’. OK. Erm, so he can’t actually come in, but you do want him to bring you that scooter you’ve been asking for? ‘yes, not our house’. Time to think on my feet then. How about he brings them, but Mummy pops out and takes them from him, so he needn’t come in, and leave them ready for you in the morning? This gets greeted with a happy and decisive nod. So that’s the new plan then in our home. I’ll be tiptoeing outside in the dead of night on Christmas Eve, for the gift handover and I might just get in a little cheeky stroke of a reindeer, too, while I’m there. Well, I deserve a perk for doing half the work, don’t I? I’m attempting to avoid this chat when the 5 year old’s about, as she may spot a few holes in the plan that I’d rather she didn’t, and in the meantime, her brother’s content and will sleep easy. There will be pressies but no stealthy old man!
Though while we’re on the subject, I’m not keen on the fact that Santa kind of hogs the limelight and gets all of the Christmas morning glory. I figure out what they’d like, which is not that easy, as sit them down with an Argos catalogue and they’ll want the lot. I spend more time and money than I’d actually like to think about getting the gifts, and then lovingly (read: hastily before the small one wakes from his nap and discovers me knee deep in roll-wrap and sellotape) wrap them all up. From this point until Christmas Eve I have to be clever and sneaky and hide them somewhere where they won’t find them, often including contorting myself to get them into high places or under the bed in never checked on spots. Christmas Eve involves a military operation of the Husband distracting them in the bathroom for the longest bath they’ll ever take, whilst I try to remember all of the hiding places and get the presents downstairs very quietly but swiftly before our children become wrinkled prunes. Then they wake, and it’s all ‘look what Santa got me…’ Yes, how lovely and thoughtful of him.
So yes, I’ve got a few gripes with St Nick.
But, and this is a pretty big but, he does make Christmas magical for little ones. There is no getting round that one, and truth be told, I don’t really want to. So we’ll weather this one, and hope that both kids go off to sleep happily this Christmas, without fears and nightmares, and then I’ll watch their little faces light up with pure joy and excitement when they see that he has been, as they are indeed on the good list.
Does any of this ring true for you?