Can Your Children Trust You?

When I was 9 I got one of these for Christmas and it made me really angry.

It wasn't because of the gift, in fact, it still stands near the top of my best Christmas gifts ever list (usurped only by the electric typewriter I got a few years later). What upset me was the fact the I got it from "Santa".

I knew Santa wasn't real but my parents, my stepdad in particular, insisted on perpetuating the Santa myth. I was mad because when I tried to thank my parents (because holy crap, BEST GIFT EVER!!!), my stepdad kept saying, "Don't thank me, it's not from me, it's from Santa." I appreciated this gift so much and I was mad because I couldn't properly thank them for it.

The next year the same thing happened when I got this.

insert fan-girl squeal here

I knew by the time I was 12 that when I had kids, I wasn't going to do the Santa thing.

The first few years after we had the boys was easy, they were too young for Santa anyway. Two years ago, I decided to tell the kids the truth, that Santa isn't real. At first my reasoning had to do with greed and debt and shopping stampedes and giving credit for the best gift ever to some fictional fat guy. And as I did this I realized that I didn't want to lie to my kids.

I don't want to bribe my kids to be well behaved by telling them that someone is watching them while they're sleeping and awake. Santa withholds gifts from naughty children and gives to the "good" ones. But tell me, if your kids really are naughty, will you be withholding their gifts? I want my children to trust me and to know that I'm always doing the best I can for them and lying to them just doesn't fit.

 So I told my boys that Santa isn't a real guy that flies around the world with reindeer pulling his sleigh, creeping into your house in the middle of the night leaving presents. We spoke of how Santa is a representation of the season of giving, how we all have a little Santa in us that we can share with other people. And a funny thing happened... they survived.

We had a few scary patches last year when they decided they wanted to share their knowledge with their friends but we've since fine-tuned our tradition.

Now, our Christmas season has become magically wonderful. The boys know that Santa isn't "real" but they also know that Santa is the spirit of the season. They enjoy watching Christmas specials with Santa in them, they run around the house pretending to be Santa and his reindeer and when I took them to see Santa at a local event, they looked at me with such knowing little looks, going along with the fun and thinking it was hilarious that other people *actually* believe this stuff.

Merriam-Webster

They've also taken the story of Santa being the spirit of giving to heart. They've both been playing Santa at school, leaving little treats for their friends in coat pockets and on desks. They've both gone shopping with their own money to buy a gift for a child they don't know and even as we were driving to look for random driveways to shovel on Sunday, they were excited to "play" Santa for someone we didn't know.




Instead of bracing yourself for the day when your kids realize that Santa isn't real, and dealing with the heartbreak, loneliness and mistrust that follows, why not tell them the truth from the get-go? We've had a lot of Santa fun in our house without once having to worry about what will happen down the road when they find out the truth.

Chia Willie, Book Swaps and Ironic Kids

I feel a tightening heaviness descending upon my chest. I'm loading up on vitamin c and lemon ginger tea with honey, sugar be damned. I'm sure that creating germ incubating schools was the responsibility of pharmaceutical companies who want us sick all the time. This thought, of course, led me to google conspiracy theories involving big pharma. 10 hours later, my kids begging to go to bed dragged me out of the rabbit hole.
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My 7 old is so funny. Months ago, he wanted to buy a Barbie rolling suitcase from the thrift store. His dad wouldn't let him so he picked out a pink Dora one instead. We were out shopping this week and he wanted to buy princess underwear. I ask him why and he replies, "It's funny because I don't even like princesses."
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Book swaps are officially the greatest thing in history. Bring in books, leave with new books. WHY ISN"T THIS A THING ALL THE TIME? I've heard of these things called libraries but they're full of rules and fines and I may be wanted in several cities due to unpaid library fines. Oh Librarian, why you gotta hate on my extraordinary procrastination practises?
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Conversations with Stan: It's like a giant black hole of limbo from which you can never escape. DH and I are discussing the boys want of knee socks for Christmas, which you have to shop for in the girls section, and Stan pipes in, "Just buy them some long johns."

Me: "But long johns aren't socks."

Stan: "Sure they are. You can cut them off at the knee. Then they'll be manly and not girly."

DH: "But they don't want PANTS, Stan, they want socks. You know, the things that cover your toes and feet?"

Stan: "We didn't wear those until I was almost 30. We wore long johns. Even when it was below 30. You sure knew when your boots were leaking."

Me: "You didn't wear socks at all when you were a kid?"

Stan: "Yes we did. We wore long johns."

I give up.
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It's like Movember on steroids all year round! No thanks.

#DreamGift

Following up on my "I made every single gift for Christmas" post, I realized that I lied.

This is my Mom. And this is the Tassimo (a fancy coffee and other delicious drink making thingy) that Best Buy Canada sent me to give to my Mom after they read this tweet.

She loves it. I love that she loves it AND I love it when she makes me something delicious in it. It's pretty much a win-win-win-win-win.

And in case you wanted to know, my boys and I also made her some art a picture a something on a canvas with family pictures profiling 2012. It was kind of awesome. Now I just need to find someone to buy my #DreamGift for me so I can stop kidnapping my sister's fancy schmancy camera. ;)

Thanks, Best Buy!!

Gettin' Crafty: Jewelry Case

This past Christmas, I made all my gifts. Every. Single. One. Thankfully we have a small family.

I forgot to take pictures of most of what I made except for this, hands down my favourite gift this season, made for my sister.

She said she needed a jewelry case. So I started with a wooden box I found on the side of the road and filled in all the holes. So many holes.

Then I made a frame out of scrap wood pieces and glued them into the box. Covered that with a piece of plastic mesh from the dollar store.

Spray painted with 2 cans I had hanging around from old projects and covered in a high gloss clear coat.

Then I attacked some used fashion magazines I picked up at the thrift shop, covered the plastic mesh with a piece of fabric (again from the thrift store) and covered it with a few layers of mod podge. Add some fancy knobs I found at the surplus store for 39¢, one more spray with high gloss and voila! A jewelry case worthy of my princess sister!

She can hang her necklaces from those fancy knobs, poke holes in the mesh to hang her earrings and use the base for rings and bracelets. Total project cost? $12.

Christmas Concert Musings

Holy crap, these parents are fiercely protective over their seats.

Keeners show up almost an hour early.

The angry kids who obviously don't want to be on stage make the show 100% better. 

Don't sit beside the grandma who comments on the wardrobe choice of EVERY SINGLE CHILD who steps on stage.

Don't sit beside the grandma who can't remember if her twin granddaughters are in grade one or two."Is that them? No wait, is that them? Caroooooo-line? Is that you?"

DO offer to take pictures for the gramps who can't figure out how to turn on the camera. It'll save you the grief of hearing him say "Well I think it worked that time" over and over again.

Risers people, risers. When the stage is the same height as the chair seats, parents can't see their kids who are sitting on the stage.

Don't sit in the front row. You may want to see your little bean up close but the spit flying from the mouths of babes every time they say "Grinch" is enough to keep you full of flu germs for the next 12 months.

Your fancy camera/iPad/Playbook is lovely.... but when you want to tape the entire show, move to the back because now every parent behind you can no longer see.

Sweet mother, is it the parents or the kids who are stinking up the place?

For heavens sakes, if you're bringing a 1 year old to an hour and a half long concert, bring a bloody toy, soother or cheerios to keep them busy.




And thank you teachers, for doing something with my kids that I could never, ever accomplish.