Don't let the blog title confuse how I feel about Christmas. I'm a big fan. Some of my greatest childhood memories are from Christmas. I love to watch the old videos we took in the early 80's on our State-of-the-Art VIDEO CAMERA! The one that weighed about 45 pounds and required you to also lug around the box with the VHS tape in it and when you carried it around you looked like you should be working for CNN. In my favorite video from the holidays we hooked up the camera so we could see ourselves on TV as it was recording, and there is 20 minutes of me sticking my hand in front of the lens and shaking it with a giant candy cane stuck to my butt. Good times. These, of course, were all Christmases from when I was a kid... but I'm not a kid anymore. Christmas carries a whole new set of responsibilities with it. It's no longer the wonderful, whimisical holiday where we celebrate baby Jesus and write letters to Santa and wake up to gifts magically placed under the tree... Oh NO. I am now my parents.
I don't want my daughter to lose her rose-colored view on life when she wakes up on the 25th and Santa screwed everything up. It's like the year my brother asked for a 10 speed bike. It was the only thing he wanted and when he woke up Christmas morning and found his bike it was a 3 speed... "Doesn't he know the difference??" he sobbed, as it suddenly hit him that he would be the laughing stock of all his 10-speed riding friends for his inferior bike -of-few-speeds. Luckily Santa's workshop had a return policy. And please spare me your "Christmas is a time of reflection and giving and being thankful for what we have" crap. You can try and explain that to a 6-year-old... she'll be happy to give to other children, but she'll still want a pony for Christmas. When you have girls, you're already set up for Christmas failure at some point in their lives because they will all want a pony... my daughter is not getting a pony. It doesn't fit on Santa's sleigh... or in his magic bag... maybe it eats all Blitzen's carrots or something, I don't know. I just know he's not bringing one. And he's not getting that crazy Butterscotch pony either. Ugh... toys that move and act alive creep me out, but she's not getting that thing for three reasons: First, there will be one time that I'll be alone in the house and it will scare the crap out of me - that I can guarantee. Second, the kids will never take care of it and I'll end up feeding and grooming a fake animal out of guilt. Third, she's not the kid from The Toy. Unfortunately for her she has parents who love her and spend time with her instead of buy her off with toys. Lame.
The only thing that gives me any hope at all is the fact that I asked for a pony every Christmas and never got one, but I still have positive memories of Christmas. Aside from the Nintendo (not the 64 - the plain ol' Nintendo) that I got in the 4th grade - AND STILL HAVE, by the way - I don't really remember what I did get from Santa. There was always that little tinge of disappointment when I discovered no tiny horse under the tree, taking a crap in the living room, but it didn't make Christmas any less special. I had just as much fun pulling that candy can off my butt and eating it - and I did eat it... right in front of the camera - than a would have playing with that pony. So I guess I'll just have to hope that I've instilled this same attitude in my own child... the child that opened up a pair of tights I put in her stocking last year and said, "What? I didn't order this!" Should I be worried??
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