I Believe

We got home at 1:30am after New Year’s Day. All Charming Baby (6 years old) could talk about on the drive home from the airport (one hour from Syracuse in a snow storm) was that he couldn’t wait to see what Santa left for them in Ithaca. They both got letters from the North Pole explaining that their gifts would be dropped off in New York while they were on vacation. Santa managed to find them in Palm Desert and leave stockings for everyone—-mostly hand and toe warmers, lip balm and hand cream. Smart Santa!



My youngest still thinks there is a Santa Claus and it is so sweet. My oldest is either the oddest 10-year-old on the planet or simply wise enough to know not to blow my day of glory. After many late nights in California and a long day of travel, First Born Prince burst into tears when he realized he did not get the air-soft gun he wanted. I told him we would discuss it in the morning and if he was VERY lucky, Santa wouldn’t hold his rude, insensitive behavior against him.



The next day, after lots of sleep, an apology from Charlie delivered loud enough for everyone to hear, and Sam so excited he dressed himself from head to toe to finger tips in snow gear without assistance, we headed to the elementary school so they could test out their new gifts.



It was 14 degrees with a wind chill near zero and they were giggling and sledding and playing like puppies. I realized that if you remove silly adult notions like “it’s too cold to go outside” or “Santa doesn’t exist” from any equation, you end up with loads of unabashed fun.