One of Lizzie's 15 pictures that she drew for Santa. Note the multitude of gifts.
The last few weeks I have been wondering if my girls actually don’t believe in Santa, and they’re just milking us for gifts.
There has been no attempt on their parts to be extra good. Extra helpful. Extra anything.
Better not cry? Better not pout? What-ev-er. Typical 5 and 3 year old behavior reigns in this house. Even when Lizzie moves the peg on the countdown-to-Christmas tree one day closer to December 25. She bellows excitedly, “Only X more days until Christmas!!!” And Sophia screeches, “I wanna move the peg!!!” And the bickering ensures.
Irony is lost on these kids.
I’m sure you’re wondering – but do you have the elf on the shelf? Surely that would inspire extra-good behavior?
Yes, we do have mysterious moving elf. We have two, actually. The girls like to run around and see where they are in the morning. But they have complete disregard for the idea that the elves are TATTLING ON THEM when they are bad.
“Look, the elves moved!” exclaims Lizzie.
“They did?” Sophia asks.
“See? There. Don’t touch them, Sophia. DON’T TOUCH THEM!!!”
“But I WANNNNNNNAAAAA!”
Threats of Santa bringing less gifts if they misbehave fall on deaf ears. And this has been really annoying. Because this is the time of year when I am supposed to be able to sing out the magic words, “Santa’s watching, girls!”
And then they should stop whatever naughty thing they are doing for fear that Santa is, at that moment, eating a candy cane that’s dipped in maple syrup and coated in candy corns, and thinking, “Hmmmmmm, I’m not so sure these girls are nice after all…”
But it’s not working. There is no Fear Of Santa Not Bringing Gifts.
So what gives? Has the jolly old guy lost his ability to inspire the fear of no gifts? Do kids think he’s so great and kind and nice that they’ll get presents no matter what because he loves them?
I mean, we’re talking about Santa, people. Not Jesus.
But as I was wrapping a gazillion gifts last night on the floor in the basement, with my body contorted into uncomfortable positions as to not bump into stacks of presents around me, I couldn’t stop thinking of how completely beyond excited the girls were going to be when they opened these gifts.
And it made me so happy.
Yeah, they might not be perfectly-behaved kids. They’re high-maintenance. They’re spirited. They are all those euphemisms that describe kids that are not mellow, go-with-the-flow types. Kids who really, ahem, give you a run for your money, shall we say.
They’re not perfect. They’re kids. And they’re MY kids. And I love them to pieces.
So I guess it’s okay that they’re not afraid that if they misbehave, Santa won’t bring them gifts. Because of course he will.
Santa loves them. Santa wants to see them happy. Santa knows they really do try to be good little girls. They have good hearts. And they deserve a happy day full of gifts and fun.
But I still wish I could utter some magic words that instantly made my girls behave. Perhaps Santa will bring me a magic remote control? One that I can just click and make the kids do what I want them to do?
Do you hear me, Santa? I’ve been a good mom. I promise.
Merry Everything to you and yours. Enjoy the holidays!
