Mourning the magic! (But thank God I don't have to move the Elf).
The spirit of Christmas manifests itself differently when you have Little Believers.
Most Christmas memories for me fall distinctly into two categories. Before and After.
Before. The memories are a little cloudy, but you remember specific Christmas pajamas. Finding the perfect tree and convincing everyone else of your revelation. The exact location of the Christmas tree in the room and the color of the wall behind it. Waiting in line for a photo with Santa. Drinking the eggnog and "blurring" as you looked at the tree to make sure there were no empty spaces. Driving to look at Christmas lights and the simple shrimp cocktail, crudites (although not until I was 40 did I understand the word!), and cheese and crackers on Christmas Eve. Finding Rudolph's nose (that definitely was NOT an airplane).
Before. When Santa came (as long as I did not sneak down the stairs or try to catch a peek of him at delivery).
Then you know The Secret. Not that there is any memory of a specific conversation or a finding out. But once You Know, memories are a bit duller...as they aren't illuminated by the magic quite the same. Until After.
After you have kids.
When you first have kids Christmas is not even on your mind. You just simply want the child to survive, and maybe yourself too. And sleep. And someone else to do the laundry. Then, once you realize you actually will survive you find yourself in Target at 9 pm and suddenly realize you see matching family Christmas pajamas. And they are on sale right now. The sale ends in one hour. Game on.
Suddenly you are The Creator of Christmas Magic. And so it begins again. We got the matching Christmas pjs...not just that year but for as many years as I could find the sizes. Breakfasts with Santas (and bedtime stories too!). Lights at the Zoo (with reindeer direct from the North Pole). Ice sculptures. Fake snow. Letters to Santa (and replies). Video messages from Santa, and even the Santa phone calls. And of course Christmas Eve Driving Around to Look at Lights...because that's how it's done!
And the Elf.
When the Elf first appeared, courtesy of GG, he was named RaRa by an excited 3 year old. And he sat on the shelf. PERIOD. This golden period lasted a few charmed years. Then, other elves started to...well, do things!! Play in the flour. Make cookies. Mess up all the toilet paper. Eat the m&ms'. And, for the heaven's sake....MOVE! Wait! This is the Elf on the Shelf. There he should remain.
No such luck. You can't be the only kid that has an elf that just sits on the shelf. I mean, how would Santa know what was going on! If he doesn't move around how does he watch us? Doesn't he care?? Thus commenced Operation Move the Damn Elf. Waking at 3am and remembering to move the elf. Or worse yet...going for the coffee and seeing the elf staring at you FROM THE SAME EXACT SPOT YESTERDAY??? Well, you remember you were in Time Out for.....(oh God, I don't even remember)? Maybe RaRa was waiting one more day to see how it turns out before reporting back to Santa! Whew.
Every year as the kids get older and talk to their friends I wondered if I would get The Question. And I tried to prepare. I had an amazing letter that I found online explaining what to say. It was going to appear just exactly when the time was right. I was beginning to see signs that maybe magic was not quite in their eyes when Santa appeared anymore, but it never really felt like The Time. And because I couldn't quite bring myself to be The Grinch that took Santa away, I even skirted the question....
"Mom, are you really the one that moves the Elf?"
"What? How on earth would I have time to do that?"
"Mom, did you really buy us the X-Box?"
"Do you think I would want to spend my money on video games?"
My logic held out for a few more magical years.
Then it happened. In July of all times. I was caught completely off guard. In the midst of unpacking from a cross country move and getting ready for my husband to deploy for a year, I got The Question.
"Mom, TELL ME THE TRUTH...are you and Dad really Santa?"
You had me at THE TRUTH.
And while my perfect letter and plan fell by the wayside, I think we winged it pretty well. Yes kids, Dad and I help put the presents under the tree because we believe in the spirit of Christmas... being kind, sharing, and creating a better world--even if just for a perfect day. Santa may not be a person that you see, but he is a symbol of love and caring for others. Now that you are old enough and entrusted with The Secret you too can create the magic and love for someone else. Welcome to the Club!
"What???? YOU ate the cookies????"
So here we are. The first season that THEY KNOW. On some level there is great relief. No more Top Secret hiding places. (We can now just have a plain old Secret hiding place because if they find them it is not a Code Red The Secret Has Been Discovered type situation.) If things don't fit we can take them back (Santa could not take them back because the elves made them, of course!). There don't have to be gifts from Santa AND Mom and Dad. Really, after 12 years of keeping up the magical facade I was a bit tired.
And, I finally get credit for the cool stuff.
The magic of Christmas will never go away of course, but we are finding it in different ways now. I will still make them drive around to look at lights (tradition is tradition!). I may even still point out Rudoph's nose. We will still make cookies, but maybe for the widow across the street instead of Santa. We will still play Christmas music and I will likely drag them with rolling eyes to a holiday concert or tree lighting. There is a part of me sad to no longer witness the wonder of a child at Christmas. But this year I get to wonder at the amazing young men these boys have become, watch in awe as they discover that being Santa is better than receiving Santa, and know they understand that they are getting the best gift of all... Dad will be home for Christmas. Yes they understand that it is A Wonderful Life. Even if they won't watch the movie these days.
And thank God I no longer have to move the Elf.
