2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas!!!!!
I’ve heard that about 50 times and we just woke up about 4 minutes ago.
I love having children in the throws of the “Santa ages” of childhood but HolyMaryMotherofGAWD I’m pretty sure my son’s head is going to EXPLODE before he’ll ever wake up Tuesday morning.
He’s obsessed. He’s also truly, and honestly, to his toes worried Santa won’t bring him something because he’s been bad.Yeah, cue the “awwwwwwwwww.” I mean, I only torture him like any other good American parent would. “Santa is watching, don’t you dare hit your sister.” “Santa heard that lie Count Waffles and I’m pretty sure you’re on the naughty list.”
With panic in his eyes before bed last night he actually asked me if *I* thought he had been good enough to warrant a gift from St. Nick. “Oh honey, I’m sure you’re just fine…don’t worry,” I said immediately regretting it if only for the pure leverage it’s given me these past few weeks.
Terrible, I know. He’s 4.5 though, he’s in trouble all the damn time.
When I was a kid we had the house on Christmas morning where everyone was up before dawn and my parents made us lay there awake and wait for the sun. It was unlike any torture known to man. I would call it worse than waterboaring.
My brother and I would be in our beds, flat on our backs, with eyes as wide as saucers and stare at the ceiling until my Mom or Dad would say, “Ok.” We’d throw our blankets off and race downstairs as fast as our tiny feet could go.
It’s 2 days before Christmas and my son is awake a good 2 hours earlier than usual bouncing off the walls. It’s like he’s had 6 cups of coffee. Like he’s got Santa fever and the only cure is more jingle bells.
He’s an addict and I don’t think any of us are sleeping until he crashes in a pile of unwrapped presents in about 48 hours.
I think the excitement and joy of this age is one thing, the sheer insanity and uberhyper activity was something entirely lost on my parent brain until about a week ago when he began to twitch.
I guess many of you may lecture me about hyping this holiday and it being all about toys and gifts and gimme gimme gimme. In all fairness, you’re an idiot. I haven’t done anything more or less than most parents do this time of year and we’ve had plenty of talks about giving and kindness and gifts not being important.
That being said he’s just shy of 5-years old and the boy believes. He believes some magic, white-bearded guy is bringing him toys. The holy grail of childhood. For one day a year he gets to have a candy and cookie laced toy-fest and the only thing stopping him is his ability to whack his sister on the head with a balloon and piss off Mom with his lazy cleaning skills. He believes, and it’s freaking magic people. It’s that warm, fuzzy magic that only comes when you’re a kid and Santa is coming. The entirely pure and innocent joy.
As a parent I’ve actually thought long and hard about this whole thing (why yes, as a matter of fact, I do think long and hard about my parenting decisions) and I’m totally fine with it. There are only so many years of Santa belief and I don’t really give a damn if that makes you think I’m spoiling my child or teaching him the wrong lesson. There are only so many years of pure magic on Christmas morning when you wake to find gifts have just appeared under your tree. There are only so many years when you can’t sleep from excitement and wait and wonder with hope and some panic if that one special thing is waiting there for you on that one special morning.
It will all be gone faster than a blink and he and I are going to enjoy every insomniac moment of it, dammit.
In fact, I’m letting him have Christmas cookies for breakfast while we wrap gifts. Then, with any luck, he’ll crash from the sugar high and I can get some sleep.