Tuesday, October 25, 2016
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus...
Do any other parents get especially paranoid about the truth at this time of year? Yes, shield your computer screens, I mean the big S word....It is just barely December and I find myself already getting nervous about Santa Claus questions, or some grown up letting the cat out of the bag. Now this may be because I am a terrible liar, and when my kids ask me straight up about something, I generally try to tell them the truth. But when it comes to Christmas, I just can't give it up.
Now bear in mind, all of this is coming from someone who was a believer until 6th grade. This blows Elliot's mind, but I'm not kidding you, and I think that's the reason why I now take it a little to the extreme. the lengths I go to to protect them and keep Christmas magical for one more year are a little nuts. I haven't read my girls the book, The Polar Express, because I am so afraid of suggesting the possibility that some people, even children may not believe. I consistently change the radio when the song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" comes on, as I : A.) Don't want my clever little darlings to figure out that Mommy is actually kissing Daddy who IS Santa, and B.) That pretending to be Santa might make people...um, horny. That said, Elliot and I do have so much fun sneaking around, and he generally catches me sometime on Christmas Eve with the raise of one eyebrow and asks if Santa can get his bells jingled...But still, filling the stockings, hiding the gifts, and we even have made a game out of that dad gum Elf on the Shelf. Last year it became a competition of which one of us could get to the Andrew our Elf first and put him in the most precarious position. Andrew riding piggyback on a Byers Caroler or getting it from behind from the reindeer are among my favorites.
But seriously, I do think that the jig is going to shortly be up at our house... and not because of Sumner and Marshall. My money is on CeCe putting two and two together and blabbing it all over the neighborhood. I have had a lot going on lately and Elliot knows how much I love Christmastime, so on Saturday we got up and announced we were going to drive to the mountains and cut our own Christmas tree. The twins were thrilled, couldn't wait...like normal children. We were all so excited, until CeCe, our resident Debbie Downer walks in the kitchen and corners me, "Don't you think it's a little early to get the tree, I mean, it's going to die by Christmas." Well that was a showstopper...
So we didn't go. I know, she's the strangest 5 year old in the world and was able to kill the mood for the rest of us with one sentence. I was all but convinced SHE was going to try to sit ME down over the weekend and break it to me that there's no Santa. So for the rest of the weekend whenever we were out and saw a happy family with a Christmas tree strapped to the top of their car one of us would say, "CeCe, do you think we need to pull them over? Shouldn't we make a citizen's arrest for getting into the holiday spirit just a little too soon?" And this didn't even phase her, she stuck to her guns.
So Elliot decides to cheer the rest of us up with a trip to Michael's for some decorations. Sweet guy that he is,this was the place he would least like to go ANY day of the week. But he dragged us all out so we could ad least get decorations for the outside of the house. "I want wreaths on the windows," he declared in the car, faking it just for me. So we get out and are approaching the store when one of us says, "Oooh CeCe, they've go the wreaths outside, shouldn't we tell them they're being a bit hasty?" And she looks up at me, dead serious and says, "I dunno, let me go check if they're real or fake wreaths," Pronouncing it REEVES, then REEFS, REEZES and then asking herself,"Why can't I say that word?" as she shuffles over the the display. I can say I have never been so pissed off and amused at the same time as I was during this whole exchange. I just can't get over how darn realistic she is, which is why I again venture to say she'll be the one to figure us out.
She's just so maddeningly logical. We bought some soup for her over the weekend and I made it and heard her alone at the table talking to herself, "This is really more of a noodle bowl, and it doesn't even have the baby corns in it like it did in the picture." Well pardon me, let's sue Trader Joes for false advertising, the miso soup is more of a noodle dish minus the baby corns.
Later that day, at my request to get her out of the house, Elliot had her out on the golf course. When he asked CeCe to pass him a golf ball. She throws it from the cart and encouraging Dad that he is, he praises her, "Nice throw!" CeCe responds not with a thank you but by saying to herself, "It was really more of a toss." Are you getting the idea?
But I truly don't think I have done this to her, she was ALWAYS this way. Our resident self-proclaimed expert on everything...and she's actually right most of the time. You just can't get anything past this kid. When she broke her leg and was in traction in the hospital doped up on morphine it was the weekend Obama was inaugurated. She was laying in her hospital bed, just barely 4 years old and two nurses came in talking about the inauguration when CeCe opens her eyes, turns her head and states, "My entire family voted for McCain." Dead silence.
So we are on Santa lock down around here to protect little Miss Smartypants for just a precious while longer, because once she knows, I have a feeling she will manage many more mood killing comments. As for Christmas songs, be careful what you sing around us...and don't be asking me what the girls are getting for Christmas because I am so paranoid about what is from us and what will be from Santa...because it's just too magical to still be a believer...