Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Christmas Early pt. I

We had a great pre-Christmas Christmas celebration with my parents this past weekend.  These past few years, we have spent Christmas Eve on our own, but always saw family on Christmas day or very shortly after.  This year, though, will be different since Chris has a week-long class the day after Christmas.  We're seeing everyone now, at least.


My parents gave Eliot a very cool barn and some clothes.  Eliot loves the barn and is doing a great job exploring new ways to play.  Before, he would just through everything or use large toys as walkers.  Now, though, he places the animals in the barn and makes animal noises--not always the right noise with the right animal, but, you know, we're getting there.  And he impressed me with how well he opened his presents.

 

By the way, those pjs are 18 month ones.  While Carter's runs a little small and they are comfortably loose, I can't believe my little baby is now in 18 month pjs and his 12 month clothes fit him great.  Oh man.  Tomorrow he will be 11 months old, so I'll save the rest of my blabber about him for then.

I've been wondering, though, if I'm the only person who isn't too excited about the idea of Santa.  Is it wrong of me to not want to do the Santa thing with Eliot?  The way I see it, he won't even get Christmas until he is two or three.  I didn't believe in Santa anymore when I was six, so is it worth the effort and a possible "Santa's not real?!" meltdown for a few Christmases of imagination?  I think I can stretch his imagination in other ways....  I don't think he'll be missing out that much.

Maybe I have a chip on my shoulder.  I don't like Santa or the Easter Bunny or mascots or things in masks.  They freak me out, but also because I look so much younger than I am, costumed people would approach when I was very much too old for that sort of thing.  A few Santas and Yogi Bear came after me a handful of times when I was around the ages of 10 and 14 (surely thinking I was 8 or something), which kind of made feel awkward and weird.  I have a long history of age misconceptions.  I can't tell you how many people have seen me with Eliot and straight up said, "You look too young to have a little one," or "How old are you?"  A hairdresser once said she thought I was 16 when I was 23.  That sort of thing.  Maybe I am projecting my Santa distaste onto Eliot.

What do you do (or plan to do) about Santa?

4 comments:

  1. Your not alone. Kingston is 3 and is scared of Santa, so I doubt he would ever believe and I'm not going to try and get him to. But at the same time, if he wants to go sit on his lap at the mall, (which he doesn't lol) or watch movies with Santa in them..I'm okay with that.

    I always get the "you look so young" and "they are bigger than you" comments too.

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  2. I'm with you. I think I'd like to tell Eliot where the myth of Santa originated from and warn him that some kids believe he is real, so don't squeal about it; at the same time, he'd be more than welcome to "pretend," but I don't intend on putting a lot of effort into convincing him that Santa is real or pushing him toward it. Unless, of course, there are cookies involved. I think Chris is still torn on the issue. His parents "did Santa" for him, but not his younger sister and both were pretty happy and normal kids. I guess it doesn't matter that much. :)

    Are the comments you receive always followed with "You'll be glad you look so young when you're older"? I don't mind too much, but I hate feeling those judging stares when they think I'm a super young before they find out that I'm actually 25 (which is still young, but you know).

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  3. I dont care what follows those comments. I hate them all! haha But now that my hair is short...I get it a lot less.

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  4. Ha! Totally. I find that they say that ("You'll appreciate it when you're older") every single time, like it makes it OK that they judged me. I thought about cutting my hair, but it usually makes me look even younger. I need to do something, though, because I just don't have the time to curl it, so I look way, way younger. Goodness!

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