A Carlsen Christmas

So, the Christmas present rush of this morning is over. The kids played upstairs with their "Christmas Eve" toy they had opened the night before until 7am, then we videoed their stocking opening (too bad I have no idea how to post video from our camera). They had a blast and made a mess (as you can see). We had Belgian waffles and chocolate milk and then played all morning. Don's brother Mike came to share Christmas morning with us and revel in all the presents that were sent to us by his Mom because she didn't trust him to wait (good call Mom). This is our first Christmas away from any family at all and even though I am muchly enjoying being in my own house, I had not expected to miss them as much as I have. I guess it is not as much fun being the grownup. We do not miss traveling with a billion bags, living out of suitcases and the general ruckus of a million kids (that is, even one more than we already have currently residing here). We hope (I hope) this Christmas "break" is filled with lots of organizing the garage, planning for scouts (Don and I are the bear den leaders), and maybe a couple more shelves put up. Hope all of your Christmases were great!

Ramblings about Christmas

Christmas is a funny time. I LOVE the decorations. I love getting out things that I remember from years past. I like the Christmas music in the stores. Lights on houses across the neighborhood. But, I hate the Santa story. I just can't pull it off. I don't remember growing up ever believing in a real Santa Claus. I have a hard time perpetuating the story for my own kids. I am trying (my husband is absolutely insistent on this aspect of Christmas), but I don't like it. I am just not creative and, in addition, a horrible liar. No really-- you can see straight through me. Luckily my oldest is 5 and thinks I know everything magically. Really funny actually - I walk into his room and see a portion of a 1x2 we had left in the garage after making shelves. The board is sticking into the space between his very bent screen and the window frame. I find Ryan and say "Ryan, why did you break your screen?" Ryan, with wonder and apprehension on his face says "How did you know?" There have been many such incidences. Oh, the innocence of not trying to cover your tracks. In all instances, I look at him firmly and say "I know everything, that's why I'm your Mommy." But the Santa thing really stumps me. I have the pat answers for what how Santa will find us, and how he will get in when we don't have a chimney - but it is getting harder. Soon he will notice that I look uncomfortable and pause with a umm...well...mmm, whenever he asks a "Santa" question. And really, well, I don't care that my kids believe in Santa. There is going to come a time when I look at them and say, "Umm, well, yeah, your friends are right. I have been lying to you all these years. Santa is more a symbol than anything. Sorry about that..." Humph - I don't like it. But it is funny seeing the kids sooooo excited to see Santa at Walmart - how can you deny them that?