Santa

October 1, 2011

I haven’t yet seen my first overtly Christmas-related commercial, but about a week ago (can’t remember the context) I told the girls that God watched them.

C: “Like Santa?”

Me: “Sure.  Like Santa.  In fact, I’d bet Santa and God talk to each other.”

C: “At Christmas, I’m going to make a list, and Santa will bring me EVERYTHING.”

Uh-oh.  We hadn’t discussed Christmas in a while.  Here we go.   This also may have come up when, seeing a commercial for some toy, R said, “I want that!  Will you buy me that?” and Sean answered, “Maybe you should remember it and ask Santa.”

Suddenly, I’m hearing it at every commercial.  “I’m gonna ask Santa to bring me THAT!”  (From both of them.  Not A.  YET.)

I can’t even think about Christmas yet.  For Pete’s sake, I’ve got to have a baby between now and then.  Then I’ll be on maternity leave, and THEN I will worry about Christmas.  (And having a floor tiled, but that’s neither here nor there.)  We are also limited in our gift-giving by the fact that I REFUSE to buy things with small pieces because they will be scattered about the house, where they will become choking hazards shortly for younger kids.  So for all those Polly Pocket and princess playsets, NO.  I mean sorry, but no.  I’ll think of getting you one of the insane kid trends you’ve been seeing on TV, but nothing I’m going to have to clean up or nag you to.

(Side note: Were kids toys this dumb when I was a kid?)

(Another side note: We have a problem with A climbing into Sean’s desk chair every single time he’s not in the room.  Incessantly.  Where I have to go grab her out.  30 pounds of pudge, squirming, is not what I’m supposed to be fighting while pregnant.  Sean is currently still sleeping, and I have placed his chair ON THE FLOOR.  She is confounded and angry.  HA.   I win.)

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