Santa

     Tonight my son was staying the night with a neighbor. I get a phone call from him saying he wants to come home, so I say of course. I am wandering what happened because he normally stays over there fine. He gets home and gives me a big hug and tells me he loves me. Of course it was so sweet I tell him and can lay in bed with me and watch t.v. So all of a sudden he says "Why would you lie to me?" I ask him about what. He says well Santa isn't real. In my mind I start freaking out and I want to cry. I am not ready for this. I know he will be 9 next month, but I am not ready for him to lose that magic.
     Michael is very smart. He has more common sense than a child that age should. However he has a very innocent and caring heart. One that would allow him to believe longer than the average child. I ask Michael why he would think Santa isn't real. He says that the moms brother started saying something about Santa and the mom said be quiet my son doesn't know he's not real.
     First I will tell how I handled the situation then I will tell you why I am upset right now. I tell Michael that I believe in Santa. That he know's mommy and daddy don't have enough money to buy him gifts from Santa and from them. He tells me that he thought the same thing. I said "Michael, there are people all over the world that try to make peope like us not believe. Maybe since that mom doesn't believe in Santa she has to pretend that he comes to their house. In our house we believe, and he comes. All I know is if you stop believing that makes him very sad and he doesn't come anymore. I will always believe." He tells me that he agrees with me and seems comforted and relieved and falls right to sleep. Now I can't sleep.
     Maybe you don't agree with me. Maybe you think I should have told him the truth. Well that's right ,you know what I am going to say..... I don't care what you think. We always remember the true meaning of Christmas at our house. We also beleve in the magic and joy that the Holiday brings. The feeling that there is someone who loves the children so much he will ride around in a sleigh lead by reindeers giving to children and making them smile on Christmas morning. We belive in baking cookies and leaving out milk so Santa can have a treat. We believe in him. No one is going to change that for us.
     Why am I upset? Because I would expect my child to come home and ask me this because some kids at school said something to him. I did not expect him to come home and ask me because an adult said something. I would expect an adult to not assume that he is too old to believe. I would expect an adult to keep the magic alive for a child. Lucky for my child, this adult does believe.
     My kids don't get the best of everything. They don't have huge birthday parties, get spoiled with gifts year round, and they don't wear everything name brand. They aren't missing anything either. Anyone who knows me knows my kids are very happy and they are very loved. Growing up, Christmas was always so special to me. I want my kids to feel the same. It may mean that my husband and I have to not give each other gifts so they can have extra . It's not about us. It's about them. My gift for the rest of my life on Christmas morning and everyday is them. That is what God gave me. There is no greater gift to me than seeing their faces light up Christmas morning as they look at that tree and see the gifts that were left by a jolly fat man. It is 10 times better than them thinking I bought it for them. In that instant they are just a child believing in magic.
     Childhood gets taken away from them so early now. They know things they have no right to know. I just want them to hold on to that little piece for a little longer. When my children are 30 I will still give them the same answer "If you stop believing he stop's coming." You see no matter how old they are they will still be my babies and I still want the magic.

So much to say but can never find the words to say it

     All day long  I think of stuff I want to blog about. When it comes time to sit down and actually write it I go blank. I feel the need that I want to make the things I write entertaining. I mean who wants to read something boring? I guess they can't all be a hit right? Tonight I was on facebook (suprise) and my friend posted a link to another blog. It was about a woman whose son wanted to dress up like Daphne from Scooby Doo for Halloween. He went to school and the parents were making comments. This really got me thinking about life.
     Why is it so many parents cannot accept their children for who they are? Even if they are not doing what you wanted them to with their life why not support them? Let them be happy. Let them live. They are not going to learn if they don't make their own mistakes. Hell I see adults every day making mistakes. No matter how much we protect them it is going to happen. It is our job to be their for them. To cheer them on when they are doing good and hold their hand when they aren't.
     I want each all of my children to get a great education and make something of themselves. The odds are that it might not be the case. Who knows what they will decide to do with their lives. I just point them in the right direction and hope they follow it, but love them still if they don't.
     I have noticed in life people judge others so harsly. You get reamed for your parenting choices. If you spank you are wrong, if you don't spank your wrong too. So many choices we have to make. Breast or bottle, cloth or disposable, discipline, schools... the list goes on and on. I think we sometimes forget that we are human and may not always make the right choices. The person next to me might not agree, but who cares? Does that give them the right to look down their nose at me? They think it does. What they don't know is I don't care what they think and neither should anyone else. I know my kids are loved. They know they are loved, they show it every day. So maybe you don't like they way I handled a situation with my children. I did what works for us.
     My whole point is instead of spending so much time hating people for the choices they make maybe we should just accept that everyone is different. Just because I wouldn't do something a certain way but you do doesn't make you wrong. Nor does it make me right. It just makes us different.