A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
It started out with the tooth fairy. G asked me flat out if I was the one who put the money on the nightstand. Tears welled up in my eyes and I hugged him. I told him it was a spirit that lived within us. He cried a little, but J didn't seem fazed. Then a little while later he came in and asked about Santa. More tears, then disbelief. Then questions. I answered each one truthfully. Wanted to know why we lied for 8 years. I said we didn't lie. CHristmas is about the birth of Jesus, and the magic is Santa and the feeling we have by giving and honoring Jesus.
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
I always said I would never do Santa if I had kids. A believes in him but we are phasing him out this year, he hasn't brought up Santa at all and we are just going to label all the gifts from DF and I and none from Santa. I think he already knows anyway just hasn't brought it up.
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Was it a bad day?
Or was it a bad five minutes that you milked all day?
"11pm ... I feel terrible lying to my children about Santa! This is not the example I want to set! 7am ... Brush your teeth! You don't want Santa to see you misbehaving! .... Parenting = confusion"
HAHA. It was a sad moment, even for me. But I can't imagine growing up without believing. G's little friend told him. Said he never believed in any mythical creatures, never has. I just figured maybe it was a Muslim thing? I told them not to spill the beans to the younger children..to let them believe as long as they can. And that really, he is alive in our hearts.
When Caitlyn was around 8, I found a little note in the tree.
It said, paraphrasing, Santa, if you are real, sign your name and put this back.
I'm glad I found it.
I had a gold metallic pen that I used to write letters from Santa every year, I signed the paper and put it back.
I watched her sneak it out the next morning and her smile lit up the room.
She didn't say anything, I didn't say anything.
But I am so glad I kept the magic alive at least one more Christmas.
Heck. I still believe in Santa!
No, a fat man doesn't slide down my chimney.
But the thought of him is magical.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
And yes, all my kids, three adults now, talk about Santa.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
I saw a wonderful way of explaining Santa to kids and it encompasses what DH and I will teach DS about Santa.
From FB:
Spoiler
"In our family, we have a special way of transitioning the kids from receiving from Santa, to becoming a Santa. This way, the Santa construct is not a lie that gets discovered, but an unfolding series of good deeds and Christmas spirit.
When they are 6 or 7, whenever you see that dawning suspicion that Santa may not be a material being, that means the child is ready.
I take them out "for coffee" at the local wherever. We get a booth, order our drinks, and the following pronouncement is made: “You sure have grown an awful lot this year. Not only are you taller, but I can see that your heart has grown, too. [ Point out 2-3 examples of empathetic behavior, consideration of people's feelings, good deeds etc, the kid has done in the past year]. In fact, your heart has grown so much that I think you are ready to become a Santa Claus. You probably have noticed that most of the Santas you see are people dressed up like him. Some of your friends might have even told you that there is no Santa. A lot of children think that, because they aren't ready to BE a Santa yet, but YOU ARE.
Tell me the best things about Santa. What does Santa get for all of his trouble? [lead the kid from "cookies" to the good feeling of having done something for someone else]. Well, now YOU are ready to do your first job as a Santa!" Make sure you maintain the proper conspiratorial tone.
We then have the child choose someone they know--a neighbor, usually. The child's mission is to secretly, deviously, find out something that the person needs, and then provide it, wrap it, deliver it--and never reveal to the target where it came from. Being a Santa isn't about getting credit, you see. It's unselfish giving. My oldest chose the "witch lady" on the corner. She really was horrible--had a fence around the house and would never let the kids go in and get a stray ball or Frisbee. She'd yell at them to play quieter, etc--a real pill. He noticed when we drove to school that she came out every morning to get her paper in bare feet, so he decided she needed slippers. So then he had to go spy and decide how big her feet were. He hid in the bushes one Saturday, and decided she was a medium. We went to Kmart and bought warm slippers. He wrapped them up, and tagged it "merry Christmas from Santa." After dinner one evening, he slipped down to her house, and slid the package under her driveway gate. The next morning, we watched her waddle out to get the paper, pick up the present, and go inside. My son was all excited, and couldn't wait to see what would happen next. The next morning, as we drove off, there she was, out getting her paper--wearing the slippers. He was ecstatic. I had to remind him that NO ONE could ever know what he did, or he wouldn't be a Santa.
Over the years, he chose a good number of targets, always coming up with a unique present just for them. One year, he polished up his bike, put a new seat on it, and gave it to one of our friend's daughters. These people were and are very poor. We did ask the dad if it was ok. The look on her face, when she saw the bike on the patio with a big bow on it, was almost as good as the look on my son's face.
When it came time for Son #2 to join the ranks, my oldest came along, and helped with the induction speech. They are both excellent gifters, by the way, and never felt that they had been lied to--because they were let in on the Secret of Being a Santa"
DH and I aren't going to teach DS that Santa is real per se - as in a fat guy in a red suit doesn't actually come in your house and leave presents - but that he is real in that St. Nick was a real person and Santa is the Christmas spirit of giving in each of us. We're just being matter-of-fact about it and letting DS enjoy Santa. He hasn't asked any questions yet but definitely knows who Santa is.
One thing I was hoping would've took longer - DS now fully understands that Christmas AND his birthday are in December. You can't take him in a toy section now without him grabbing stuff and asking if he can have it for Christmas/his birthday. Sometimes, he'll toss something in the cart and proclaim that it's for his birthday.
12 yo Son#3 was pointedly asking me last night. Chuckling and smiling at the same time. He would ask and I would answer by commenting about something else, or some other thing, or this that and the other whatnot. Finally he chortled and said "You are dodging the question. Answer me now. Is there a santa?" I said "Well.. ya know...." and then wandered out of the room. : giggle : I always told my kids that the moment they stop believing is the moment they no longer get a present from Santa. So.... my 29 yr old still believes. :laugh:
I saw a wonderful way of explaining Santa to kids and it encompasses what DH and I will teach DS about Santa.
From FB:
Spoiler
"In our family, we have a special way of transitioning the kids from receiving from Santa, to becoming a Santa. This way, the Santa construct is not a lie that gets discovered, but an unfolding series of good deeds and Christmas spirit.
When they are 6 or 7, whenever you see that dawning suspicion that Santa may not be a material being, that means the child is ready.
I take them out "for coffee" at the local wherever. We get a booth, order our drinks, and the following pronouncement is made: “You sure have grown an awful lot this year. Not only are you taller, but I can see that your heart has grown, too. [ Point out 2-3 examples of empathetic behavior, consideration of people's feelings, good deeds etc, the kid has done in the past year]. In fact, your heart has grown so much that I think you are ready to become a Santa Claus. You probably have noticed that most of the Santas you see are people dressed up like him. Some of your friends might have even told you that there is no Santa. A lot of children think that, because they aren't ready to BE a Santa yet, but YOU ARE.
Tell me the best things about Santa. What does Santa get for all of his trouble? [lead the kid from "cookies" to the good feeling of having done something for someone else]. Well, now YOU are ready to do your first job as a Santa!" Make sure you maintain the proper conspiratorial tone.
We then have the child choose someone they know--a neighbor, usually. The child's mission is to secretly, deviously, find out something that the person needs, and then provide it, wrap it, deliver it--and never reveal to the target where it came from. Being a Santa isn't about getting credit, you see. It's unselfish giving. My oldest chose the "witch lady" on the corner. She really was horrible--had a fence around the house and would never let the kids go in and get a stray ball or Frisbee. She'd yell at them to play quieter, etc--a real pill. He noticed when we drove to school that she came out every morning to get her paper in bare feet, so he decided she needed slippers. So then he had to go spy and decide how big her feet were. He hid in the bushes one Saturday, and decided she was a medium. We went to Kmart and bought warm slippers. He wrapped them up, and tagged it "merry Christmas from Santa." After dinner one evening, he slipped down to her house, and slid the package under her driveway gate. The next morning, we watched her waddle out to get the paper, pick up the present, and go inside. My son was all excited, and couldn't wait to see what would happen next. The next morning, as we drove off, there she was, out getting her paper--wearing the slippers. He was ecstatic. I had to remind him that NO ONE could ever know what he did, or he wouldn't be a Santa.
Over the years, he chose a good number of targets, always coming up with a unique present just for them. One year, he polished up his bike, put a new seat on it, and gave it to one of our friend's daughters. These people were and are very poor. We did ask the dad if it was ok. The look on her face, when she saw the bike on the patio with a big bow on it, was almost as good as the look on my son's face.
When it came time for Son #2 to join the ranks, my oldest came along, and helped with the induction speech. They are both excellent gifters, by the way, and never felt that they had been lied to--because they were let in on the Secret of Being a Santa"
DH and I aren't going to teach DS that Santa is real per se - as in a fat guy in a red suit doesn't actually come in your house and leave presents - but that he is real in that St. Nick was a real person and Santa is the Christmas spirit of giving in each of us. We're just being matter-of-fact about it and letting DS enjoy Santa. He hasn't asked any questions yet but definitely knows who Santa is.
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
I was in middle school. There was no big reveal, no drama. After we had opened all our Santa gifts, my mom made a comment about how excited she was to get me one of the gifts. I remember thinking, but that gift was from Santa.....so mom is Santa, that's cool. My mom is an awesome Santa. We still get presents and stockings. And I still don't know how she gets it all out without us seeing her.
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Santa was never a single person. Santa was always the spirit of giving for me. That's how my parents explained how there could be so many different Santas all over the place. The costume and "jolly old elf" persona was just to help remind people that didn't know or forgot.
