I saw a story on the news today that said, "Police are investigating to find out why a woman left her young child home alone. Neighbors called the authorities after they saw the two-year old playing in the hallway with crack."
Um...OK. I didn't realize the police were so hard up for detectives, but I'll be glad to help them out:
Dear police: She left her child home alone because SHE IS A CRACKHEAD.
I should totally be a detective.
In the past 10 years or so, I’ve seen a lot of blogging about and worrying over the concept of Santa & lying to our kids. I can honestly say that I had never thought of it that way, or heard anyone else talk about in my life before recently. And honestly? I just don’t get it. I mean, if your child grows up and hates you for “lying” to them about Santa – and in the process giving them loads of presents? Your kid is an asshole. And you might just be an asshole to have raised such an asshole.
Don’t get me wrong – to each his own. If you want to do the Santa thing, fine. If you don’t, fine. But the idea that doing it is going to damage your child or make them not trust you because you lied to them is completely bizarre to me. I can’t help but to think this is borrowing problems. I mean – there are plenty of real, honest to goodness problems that we can worry about. This? Just seems like a whole lot of silliness to me.
I have only had one child so far that made the transition from believing to not believing. But based on that one child, I have determined that I most definitely did NOT damage him in any way by allowing him to believe in Santa. When he came to me (older than many are when they stop believing) and asked me for the truth, I’ll admit it - it broke my heart. Previously, I used the “what do YOU think?” answer, but that last time, I knew. I knew that he knew, but was wishing otherwise. I knew it was time. And even though he knew, he was still disappointed. He cried. But not because I had been lying to him for years. Because he felt sad that he was moving on. Sad that some of the magic was being let out of his life. But not for one minute did he even think that I was wrong for “lying” to him (and I asked him about it some time later because of this nonsense).
When I was about five or six years old, I was lying awake one Christmas Eve, too excited to sleep. And I heard my mom on the phone with Aunt Twin. I will always remember what it felt like to hear those words: “Ray is putting together Gina’s Barbie Townhouse.” And at that moment, I knew. I spent the rest of my childhood not believing. And you know what? That was sad.
I never told my parents I heard – I was afraid I’d get in trouble for being awake that late, so for years they thought I believed when I didn’t. The Christmas season was stressful for me. Adults always like to ask kids about Santa – Is he coming? What is he bringing? Have you seen him yet? And every one of those questions made me feel awful. And Christmas mornings? Oh MAN, they were tough. My parents could never understand why I didn’t jump excitedly out of bed like most kids. They would have to wake me up and practically drag me downstairs.
I know that many of these issues come from the pretending, rather than the lack of Santa, but not all. I was disappointed that he wasn't real. And I always felt a little left out of the excitement and anticipation that the other kids felt about Santa. The fact is (for me at least) a Christmas without Santa is a Christmas without magic. And I like my Christmases magical.
And now I want my kids’ Christmases to be magical. So I’m going to go ahead and be a big liar. My kids will thank me for it.
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Edited to add that random.org told me that comment #18 was the winner! And that lucky person is Carmen @ life blessons. Carmen - I've emailed you - just send me the info I need and you'll get your gift card ASAP. Congratulations!
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I just wanted to let you all know that I didn't forget you - I will be announcing the winner of the $50 gift card very soon!
Until then, here's a very sad puppy getting his SECOND bath of the day. It's his second bath not because I enjoy wrestling a biting, chewing, wiggling ball of badness into the tub, but because after his first bath he ate cat litter-encrusted cat poop in a delightful clumping cat-pee/litter reduction, puked it up in his crate, and then ROLLED IN IT.
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Don't forget - there is still time to enter to win a $50 gift card to 77 Kids. Don't have kids? That's OK - you can use it at any American Eagle store, too.
Go ahead and enter - it will help local Childrens Hospitals in the meantime!
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OK - here are ten of the many, many reasons I am lame:
1. The most exciting thing that happened to me this weekend was my sense of smell coming back for a few hours.
2. Earlier this week, I was ma’am-ed by a guy who was at least 30. I am old and lame.
3. I am becoming that person at work who complains about how hot and/or cold it is in the office. And lucky me, our office is both. IN the morning, it’s freezing – even with a blanket and space heater. But by lunch, it’s getting warm. By mid afternoon, it’s at least 76 degrees in here. Now, 76 degrees might not sound like much to you young folks, but trust me – to a tired, cranky, middle aged woman? 76 degrees = SURFACE OF THE SUN.
4. To keep warm in my (currently freezing) office, I am using a NASCAR blanket. With Tony Stewart on it! It's pink!! There are several things wrong with this.
5. I am also turning into that person we all know that can’t stop talking about their health. Actually, I take that back. I am using all my energy to NOT turn into that person. But it’s hard when you’ve been sick for 3 months straight. When you have had the flu, pneumonia, several colds, a never-ending cough, a sinus infection, ear infections, and a serious hearing loss, as well as loss of smell and taste, there’s pretty much not much else to talk about.
6. Along with blogging, I have been mostly absent from twitter and facebook, too. Most nights, I just don’t feel like even turning on my computer – Though in retrospect, it may be toe to consider professional help when turning on a computer is too exhausting. And while I can access it on my phone, I am old and lame and can’t see that tiny screen. And who knows where the reading glasses are.
7. I have already started listening to the All-Christmas-Music-All-The-Time station. And cried at least twice over some sappy Christmas song (though not those fucking Christmas Shoes – though it wants to be a tearjerker, it only serves to make me commit murder).
8. I haven’t been seeing or talking to my friends much lately, which makes me sad. And yet…I haven’t been seeing or talking to my friends much lately. I miss Rapunzel and Hedge and Tee and all of you. And yet…
9. I often try to be all badass and fail miserably. I get frustrated with someone treating me poorly, so I decide fuck it – I’m treating them the same way. And then when I do, I feel bad for treating them poorly. I fail at badass.
10. The other day, I had a really vivid dream. About math. Did you get that? MATH! In my dreams. The place where I can create the perfect fantasy. Where I can be anyone and do anything. I should have been rich, or off somewhere exotic making a George Clooney/Tom Selleck/Kix Brooks dirty sandwich, or at the very least, I SHOULD HAVE BEEN FLYING. But instead, I was very thrillingly calculating the speed at which a penny dropped off the USX building will hit the ground (why, oh, why does 9.8m/s2 stay with me?) And – hold your excitement – converting Celsius to Fahrenheit. And back again, of course – it’s all fun and games around here. I feel like I should call up my old physics teacher and say, “You were right! I am using this stuff in life!” but he’d probably be all, “LAME!”
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