Dear Santa, Part I:

...this letter was inspired by my annual reading of the book featured at left: "Don't Bite Me, I'm Santa Claus," by Tom Plummer.



Dear Santa,

Hi, it's me. I'm feeling sort of sad this year because my last child is trying to tell me that you just aren't true. I'm trying just as hard to remind him that you are, of course. I mean really! (And my friend--who is also the mother of his best friend--has threatened to cut out his tongue if he says a word about this to her daughter.)

I used to believe my life would be a bit easier when my kids all "grew up." But now I think I was wrong. I don't care if arriving at this stage means I can wrap all the presents weeks ahead of time and won't have to stay up till 1 or 2 or later to get all the surprises ready (we both know I will wait till the last minute anyway!).

Remember how when I was young I always let Christmas become a bit overshadowed by my selfishness? I'm so sorry about that now. I'm sure a good part of that was because I had real issues over having a birthday right before Christmas. You have to admit I did kind of get gypped in that regard. It is the bane of all December-born: receiving the exact same presents everyone was giving to all their friends that year and hearing, "Here. This is for your birthday and Christmas." And of course there were never to be any birthday parties that close to Christmas either. My mom tried to plan one for me once, but I was so worried about everyone who didn't come I failed to have a great time with those few who did come. My bad. I used to get pretty worked up over having birthday gifts wrapped in Christmas paper all the time too. My mom still thinks that's a big deal to me, but just between us, I'm really so over that. I'm really over all of it now. And gratefully so.

The cool thing that happened to me was I had my own kids. Without ever realizing it, I kind of lost myself in the magic of helping you make their Christmases something special and I no longer had any time to be worrying about whether or not my birthday would be special. And somehow that made everything more special.

Now I realize that this really is the most wonderful time of the year not only to celebrate Christmas, but also to have a birthday. Who else gets to celebrate the day they were born surrounded by skies donned with twinkle lights, wonderful wreaths and garlands, the spicy smell of wassail, tender tidings of comfort and joy and the sweet sounds of carols to our King? How cool is that?

So I just wanted to let you know, I still believe. And of course December the 24th will still find me helping you out--probably still frantically and much later than I should. And while I may feel a little sad to recognize childhood waning in my growing-up kids, I'll also be a little happy in my hopes that the best part of their "childhood" still awaits them. And I will be praying that each of them will be wise enough--regardless of age--to let the child in him or her guide them to the best parts of Christmas, and really, the best parts in their lives.

Happy Christmas!


Love,

D~