Friday, December 7, 2007
The Christmas gifts I remember best from when I was little didn't come from Santa, or even from Santa's little elf-helper, Sprinkle (who had handwriting that was very similar to my dad's...). They were from my parents. One was this little stove that my dad built, and the other was a cloth book that my mom made and won first prize, etc., at the Ohio State Fair. I still have the book, and the stove was part of the inspiration for Pete's 2nd birthday present, a play kitchen built by Husbandguy and painted with my help. So here's the thing. Santa's cool and all, and having children who believe in Santa kind of makes him real again for me in a way, and it's fun to visit our mall Santa and deliver what they've requested every year (so far it's been easy), but I hope that when Pete and Lulu grow up they can't remember what Santa brought them. Maybe instead they will remember helping me put my grandma's red birds on the tree and helping their dad hang the lights on the house and pinning the felt ornaments on the advent calendar tree that my aunt made when I was little and making a present for someone else in the family as part of my other grandma's gift exchange. And when their kids say, "Mom? Would you tell me a story of when you were little?" they will tell them about that.