I believe in Santa

You hit a certain age, and sometimes you simply stop believing in Santa.

It happened to me a million years ago.

And then I had children, and the magic of Santa sprinkled its way back into my life. As each year has passed that magic has intensified.

I realize we have barely entered October and I haven’t even covered the house in pumpkins and black cats, but my mind is already on Christmas and Santa.

And it is my son’s doing.

I was just biting into my last grilled shrimp at Applebees when Coop, suddenly standing in our booth, leaned in, eyes as wide as apples and stage-whispered, “Mommy, Daddy…..LOOK – its SANTA.”

We looked. My jaw slack, I realized I was staring.

The long white hair, the beard, the belly, the RED SHIRT….

IT IS SANTA.

In October.  In Applebees.

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I was hesitant to interrupt his dinner, but Coop was insistent.  He hopped down, arms swinging, he skipped over to where Santa was sitting and said hello, “Hi Santa.”

And, of course Santa replied….”Well, hello little man.”
Just like that – Santa kept the magic alive.

Cooper believes.

I believe.

Gripe list

OK…so, I think I complained A LOT today…

I hate the cold.  In fact, I detest the cold.  And, today was, well, FREEZING.  Anything below 20 (really, I mean 50) is absurd.

I’m bitter about the freezing rain.  And waiting in my car for the windshield to defrost.

Frustrated that I had to make a last-minute trip to the store for items for a Pre-School party (my own fault – slacker).

Crabby about my messy house.  And my fighting kids.  And my stack of papers-and-such in my office.
Irritated about my inability to add that extra hour to the day I’ve been lobbying for.  And about my lack of sleep.

But….then I read a Caring Bridge journal entry from a friend. Her 2 year old has Leukemia.  She is cheery because her husband and little boy made it safely to the hospital for his latest chemo treatment.  She is hopeful because her son seems a little more like himself, they are no longer finding blood in his stool and the hole in his chest from his first port (which was removed after it became infected) has healed.

She is saying prayers of thanks and gratitude because her three older children (about 3, 5 and 8) asked Santa for something special when they saw him….for their little brother to feel better.

What’s Jack Nicholson’s line from A Few Good Men?? “Don’t I feel like a F*&^*$#   A**&5$#” 

I never have to look far for a little perspective.  I can Bah-Humbug about the cold and fighting kids all day long, but the truth is – I know my friend would give anything for those to be her only gripes.

So, tonight, instead of gripes, I will focus on gratitude.

Thousand Word Thursday

 Cheaper Than Therapy

Christmas is such a magical time….especially when you are blessed enough to see it through the eyes of children.  We had a beautiful visit with Santa this past weekend….and the kids just couldn’t get enough.
He was jolly, chatty and all-together one of the best we’ve seen.  They were mesmerized. 

I wish I could hop into their little brains to see just what they are thinking….”Will he bring me The Littlest Pet Shop?”, “Where are his reindeer?”, “How does he fit down our chimney?”, “Did he like the cookies we left him last year?”, “That is one crazy, white beard.”, “This sleigh is pretty cool.”, “I don’t think I want him to hug me.” :)