Also, it's almost Christmas! Christmas is my favorite holiday of the year mostly because of my two younger brothers. Every year they wake me up at an insane hour (usually five or six am), jump on me and drag me out of bed. "Santa was here! Santa was here!" The eldest of the two would lean over the rails of the stairs and gawk at the presents under the tree. When we were all assembled, they would run out, the excitement in their eyes, and start ripping at the paper on their respective presents. Blue and Red has been the wrapping paper of choice for as long as I can remember and even the youngest, who has cerebral palsy, is used to this system of present separation.
Around ten they would be exhausted but still cradling the "favorite" amongst that year's haul. They'd play with these toys for weeks! But because they're almost eight, this magic is slowly waning. A day ago I had to make the eldest write a letter to Santa because he hadn't even written one. Both my boyfriend and I guilted him into it. "Santa doesn't give presents to kids who don't send letters!" one of us said. "Yeah, I sent mine by email weeks ago." Unwilling at first, he finally asked with some trepidation, "Is it gonna get there on time...?"I smiled and assured him I'd send it priority mail.
The other brother, much more innocent for a lot of different reasons, is still safe from the daunting reality of parents being Santa. But the other is, I'm sure, on his last Christmas as a "believer." I guess I'll have to watch The Polar Express with him until he can't take it any more. ;D
But for now I feel as if my babies are growing up too fast for me (and trust me, college does not help one bit). I wonder if this is how moms feel when a crucial age is passed. When kids stop believing in things like Santa and the Tooth Fairy. For now, I'll enjoy every moment to the fullest. Every smile and laugh and wonder-filled eyes as they gaze at the things the mystical and jolly old man left them.
Maybe next year it won't be the same. Maybe he'll find the presents stashed in mom's closet. Maybe one of his friends will tell him. Either way, I've reached a conclusion. Growing up is difficult. Watching your brothers or children grow up is worse. However, curiosity will always exist, happiness, wonder and a little innocence. I'll just have to enjoy it in different ways.
Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Anythingyoubelievein!
And, as a funny little quip: http://isitchristmas.com/
Song of the moment: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" -Bright Eyes
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