I'm currently sitting here drinking a homemade egg nog latte (egg nog and strong coffee, shaken in a mason jar) while bacon jam bubbles away on the stove. I could be starting my cookie baking, or my marshmallow dipping, or my ... oh, whatever else I decide to make today. But right now I'm content to sit on my butt and drink my latte and blog.
I was thinking the other day (while watching The Santa Clause, I think) about if there was ever something I asked for but didn't get from Santa. I was told about Santa from a very young age because of my parents' divorce. I remember my mother telling me there was no Santa. She pulled me into her pullout couch/bed in her room of our very small trailer to snuggle, and very kindly explained to me that Christmas would not be very big that year and it wasn't because I had been bad but but she just didn't have the money.
But Christmases at our house were always over the top. Piles and piles of presents covering half the living room. I know I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have. I've never been good at receiving gifts; I don't know the proper amount of enthusiasm. Looking back, I have no idea how my mom afforded all of that. I remember certain gifts from different years - one year my mom made me a doll house. Another year I got a pager (yes, I know, I'm old) and another one I got a Body Shop dress that I had coveted. I don't ever remember asking for anything specifically from Santa, and I don't remember not getting something I really wanted.
We don't go over the top for Christmas for the boys. This year have been the biggest, and I can't say it's a crazy Christmas. Hopefully they like what they get, but more I hope they just enjoy the day.
A sales person asked Spencer last week what he wanted Santa to bring him. "I don't know," he answered. "Whatever he brings me will be fine with me!"
Such my child. At least I know he won't be disappointed!
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1 comment:
Fuss gets 1 present from Santa each year. Often, it's something big, but if it is, it is something she has to share with her brother (her kitchen was from Santa, the play tower in the back yard was from Santa), so she knows that no matter how much she wants, she'll get ONE thing. Being an only child growing up, my parents would go nuts. (I was also the favorite grandchild) And something like half of my presents were "from Santa". I didn't want to do that with my kids. (honestly, my mom had the policy that Santa presents didn't get wrapped. I think I got so much "from Santa" because she got sick of wrapping.)
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