It’s the first year where we have no believers in the house.
That’s right, I’m talking about Saint Nic. Yes we are exactly those kind of people who excitedly tell our children that some strange obese man in a fuzzy track suit is going to break into their house once a year and deposit presents under the tree in exchange for cookies…and we celebrate it! And yes, I have heard how the letters in Santa are the same as the letters in Satan…we also all read and watched all the Harry Potter movies, if you must know. We love them! I know, it’s just hard to wrap your head around…
No but seriously. For those of us who do Santa Claus with our children, the first year were no one in the house believes in the big fat guy in red, is kind of a big heartbreaking deal. All the mystery and excitement is over. My daughter is no longer asking what Santa is going to bring her. Any mention of Santa made in the house is now paired with a sarcastic eye roll…the magic is truly no longer alive. The older two have played along for her in the past, but now, it’s all come to a dramatic end.
There will be no more, Santa tracker, “mommy look and see where he is!” No more bribes to have to go to bed early. No more shrieks of exhilaration that “he came, he really came!” None of that. She didn’t even ask to see him this year. We’ve planned on going, but without a child pestering you, it just kind of falls off the radar. It hasn’t even really felt like Christmas to be honest.
Yes, Christmas is indeed different this year. Childhood officially gone from the Bedlington house forever…possibly to return with grandchildren one day…in the far, far future.
I know this passing of childhood will be replaced with new and exciting adventures and mysteries coming to the Bedlington home in the future. But for today I mourne the loss of my fat, old, jolly, breaking and entering, cookie loving, imaginary friend in red.
Think we can now start a new tradition where the kids leave out cheese and wine for mommy in exchange for presents???
My Outlandish Life 