The Things We Do...
I'm not a Christian. No, really. LOL. Karma's dad is an atheist. My mother is Wiccan. My daughter has classmates who are being raised Christian, Jewish, Hindu, and who knows what else. I love her school. Her BFF is Christian and this has caused some interesting conversations between 4 year olds.
Russ is spending time with Karma reading to her about the old Greek myths. Her current favorite is about Medusa. Long story about why. Heh.
I had an existential crisis about Holiday time and how to best approach it. Last year, we spent Christmas with my father's side of the family. They're all Christians but they do a very secular Christmas with Santa and gifts and trees and decorations. It was lovely and we had a good time.
This year, I threw a hissy fit about Santa not being real and not wanting to lie to my child about it. However, I immediately felt bad because Nali reminded me of the Magic of Childhood. **hangs head in shame** I don't talk much about my hatred of the holidays because I'd just rather let sleeping dogs lay where they are. I started letting my own disillusionment with the holidays get in the way of making them special for my daughter. I decided, finally, to start of very small.
She knows that Mommy doesn't believe in Santa but she also knows that it's ok to believe in him if she desires. I even took her to the Mall to have her picture taken with Mall Santa. She asked him for a stuffed girl lion toy. Seriously. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one of those that isn't from the Lion King? She specifically wanted a Girl Lion with HAIR. I tried to explain that only boy lions have manes. She was steadfast. So what does Mama do? I bought a boy lion with GIANT EYES and put a big PINK bow around him. She's getting a Drag Queen Lion for Xmas from "Santa". :)
We have a very small tree with a few presents from family under it and tonight, we'll bake cookies and put them under the tree for Santa. He'll stop by, eat some cookies, leave some presents, and jet. I wish I had tv so we could track Santa on the radar. :)
So why my change of heart (a la Grinch style)? One very good Christmas memory. When I was 5, my Uncle Wil lived with my mom and me. He was main father figure for a long time. He was also very gay. :) Christmas of 1982: We piled into a tiny Toyota and went in search of The Biggest Tree Ever. We had vaulted ceilings in house. Heh. I remember sitting on the armrest between the two fronts seats. Uncle Wil was driving and Mom was in the passenger seat and we were singing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs along with the radio. We got a HUGE tree picked out and took it home. We had to cut two feet of it off before it would fit and the angel was still smooshed against the ceiling. It was beautiful. (Sadly, that was also the same year I discovered that Santa wasn't real. My own nosiness led to me discovering that Mom was Santa and I felt betrayed. It was awful.)
So, my favorite Christmas was also the last Christmas that meant anything to me. As I grew older, Christmas became about dodging my grandmother and other family members who wanted to give me gross grown-up sugars. **shudder** I don't like much of my mom's family and the ones that I loved the most are all dead.
I think this year's Christmas will be the beginning of my healing. By giving my daughter a Christmas and by accepting my role as Santa, I am giving myself the joy of my daughter's smile and that's all that matters.
I love her so much and I am so scared of screwing up. (And she's now awake.)
Russ is spending time with Karma reading to her about the old Greek myths. Her current favorite is about Medusa. Long story about why. Heh.
I had an existential crisis about Holiday time and how to best approach it. Last year, we spent Christmas with my father's side of the family. They're all Christians but they do a very secular Christmas with Santa and gifts and trees and decorations. It was lovely and we had a good time.
This year, I threw a hissy fit about Santa not being real and not wanting to lie to my child about it. However, I immediately felt bad because Nali reminded me of the Magic of Childhood. **hangs head in shame** I don't talk much about my hatred of the holidays because I'd just rather let sleeping dogs lay where they are. I started letting my own disillusionment with the holidays get in the way of making them special for my daughter. I decided, finally, to start of very small.
She knows that Mommy doesn't believe in Santa but she also knows that it's ok to believe in him if she desires. I even took her to the Mall to have her picture taken with Mall Santa. She asked him for a stuffed girl lion toy. Seriously. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one of those that isn't from the Lion King? She specifically wanted a Girl Lion with HAIR. I tried to explain that only boy lions have manes. She was steadfast. So what does Mama do? I bought a boy lion with GIANT EYES and put a big PINK bow around him. She's getting a Drag Queen Lion for Xmas from "Santa". :)
We have a very small tree with a few presents from family under it and tonight, we'll bake cookies and put them under the tree for Santa. He'll stop by, eat some cookies, leave some presents, and jet. I wish I had tv so we could track Santa on the radar. :)
So why my change of heart (a la Grinch style)? One very good Christmas memory. When I was 5, my Uncle Wil lived with my mom and me. He was main father figure for a long time. He was also very gay. :) Christmas of 1982: We piled into a tiny Toyota and went in search of The Biggest Tree Ever. We had vaulted ceilings in house. Heh. I remember sitting on the armrest between the two fronts seats. Uncle Wil was driving and Mom was in the passenger seat and we were singing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs along with the radio. We got a HUGE tree picked out and took it home. We had to cut two feet of it off before it would fit and the angel was still smooshed against the ceiling. It was beautiful. (Sadly, that was also the same year I discovered that Santa wasn't real. My own nosiness led to me discovering that Mom was Santa and I felt betrayed. It was awful.)
So, my favorite Christmas was also the last Christmas that meant anything to me. As I grew older, Christmas became about dodging my grandmother and other family members who wanted to give me gross grown-up sugars. **shudder** I don't like much of my mom's family and the ones that I loved the most are all dead.
I think this year's Christmas will be the beginning of my healing. By giving my daughter a Christmas and by accepting my role as Santa, I am giving myself the joy of my daughter's smile and that's all that matters.
I love her so much and I am so scared of screwing up. (And she's now awake.)
happy