Navigating Christmas

It sounds fun and easy, doesn't it? Who doesn't have fond memories of waking up on Christmas morning, only to find that Santa really did come and he left you presents that you may have asked him for and some you only thought of? Who doesn't remember the excitement of new toys which last for, oh a few hours at least? Who wouldn't want to recreate those moments for their own offspring? Really, how hard can it be?

Okay so first off, remember now that you're carrying on a deception based on a conglomeration of Swedish, German and Macy Department store's traditions in which a fat, jolly man who usually lives on the North Pole flies around the world delivering presents to every single (good) child in a red and white suit with flying reindeer in a single night. And now you're trying to explain to a two and a half year old that this man comes down your chimney, fills an empty stocking and leaves presents, but somehow doesn't do it until she's asleep. "Why?" she asks, the typical two year old. At one point, early on, she surprised me and asked, "Is Santa Claus real?"

I said yes. I outright lied. I just didn't expect the question before the age of say, eight.

We got past the Santa Claus hurdle, only to be thrown into the melee of what the heck to buy the two year old who has everything and is used to "shopping" at the town's "Swap Shop" (i.e. the "dump"). Everything in the world contains batteries, educational DVDs and flashing lights. Everything else is toxic or made for ages 3 and up. What would she really play with? The traditional way of gathering info--asking your child what they asked Santa for-- wasn't yielding any information, since Sydney asked Santa for a Christmas Tree.

Stuffing the stocking became an issue; I hadn't bought enough stuffing. Recalling my stocking days I finally figured out why my stockings always contained fruit; they filled up the space nicely. Then it came time to wrap the presents... and wrap, and wrap, and wrap... it was 10:30 before we were done. Exhausted, we went to bed.

Predictably, when Sydney came downstairs to encounter the newly stuffed stocking and the presents under the tree, she didn't ask about Santa. She said, "Did somebody come here?"

All in all, the rest of the day went well, and Sydney was delighted with everything, most notably a Black & Decker toolset complete with hard hat, safety vest and goggles (goo goo goggles, she calls them). This morning she asked tentatively if her new presents were still here, as if she expected them to disappear with the Day. I told her they were and she went downstairs happily.

The Christmas Mystery; solved. Now, if only someone had told me that fingerpaints were so messy.... but that's a different story.