I’m getting all nostalgic for those years gone by when my children were little and believed in Santa Claus. Every year, I bring out the “Kids On Santa’s Lap” photo album and place it on the coffee-table. Looking through it (again) prompted one of my, “OMG, weren’t they precious,” blubbering moments.
I remember the year my eldest was five years old. He looked adorable sitting on Santa’s lap. (I have the picture to prove it.)
When his time with Santa was over and the requisite candy cane received, he headed back to Mom with a puzzled expression on his face. My usual rambunctious and chatter-box of a son was very quiet.
“Did you have fun sitting on Santa’s lap?” I asked.
“Sort of,” he replied slowly. “But, Mom, I don’t think Santa Claus really watches me all year.”
(Think “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” “He sees you when you’re sleeping…he knows when you’re awake…he knows if you’ve been good or bad…”)
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, because he asked me if I’d been a good boy. He didn’t know.”
I could just picture the gears turning in his brain. Hmm…if Santa isn’t watching me all year, well then…
If you have memories such as this, save them – either via a blog or with a Mother’s (or Father’s) Journal. You’ll be glad you did. I kept a Mother’s Journal. Blogs didn’t exist way back when.
I remember the year my eldest was five years old. He looked adorable sitting on Santa’s lap. (I have the picture to prove it.)
When his time with Santa was over and the requisite candy cane received, he headed back to Mom with a puzzled expression on his face. My usual rambunctious and chatter-box of a son was very quiet.
“Did you have fun sitting on Santa’s lap?” I asked.
“Sort of,” he replied slowly. “But, Mom, I don’t think Santa Claus really watches me all year.”
(Think “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” “He sees you when you’re sleeping…he knows when you’re awake…he knows if you’ve been good or bad…”)
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, because he asked me if I’d been a good boy. He didn’t know.”
I could just picture the gears turning in his brain. Hmm…if Santa isn’t watching me all year, well then…
If you have memories such as this, save them – either via a blog or with a Mother’s (or Father’s) Journal. You’ll be glad you did. I kept a Mother’s Journal. Blogs didn’t exist way back when.
6 comments:
I wonder sometimes what it would have been like if blogs were around way back in the early 90's. I would have been an uber-mommy-blogger. With pictures and everything!
I did keep a journal and make photo albums though which I pull out from time to time and reminisce about my babies. **misty eyes**
Cute Santa story...that's why I love 4-5 year-olds they try so hard to figure things out.
trish - Yeah, I would have been a "mommy-blogger." What a support group that would have been. On the other hand, I had (have) great friends who helped me through those baby/toddler/hellion years.
And, yes, 4 and 5 year-olds can be absolutely brilliant. Mine were! (Of course.)
They are so smart aren't they. They make you think so hard about what is going on as well. We ended up walking through a Casino in Atlantic city with the girls. Try to explain gambling to children and make the people sound even faintly sane. It is IMPOSSIBLE. They just didn't get it, and by the time we were done I didn't either.
They make you stop and think...
oreneta - they are amazing and it is wonderful (and enlightening) to see the world through their eyes. But my god, sometimes they are so literal-minded it can drive you mad...
I was never able to get a good picture of the guys on Santa's lap. They both cried their heads off.
Santa and clown phobias. Just my luck! ;-)
Attila - My kids are far, far from perfect (the tales I could tell...) but never cried with Santa or at the barber. Can I take any credit for that? I don't think so.
As for phobias - wonder where they come from? I've had a lifelong phobia about puppets/marionettes. Strange? Yeah, well I am a bit strange. Makes life interesting.
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