How My Kids Brought Back The Magic Of Christmas

There comes a time in all of our lives when childhood begins to wane and, along with it, the magic and belief in Santa. I remember the hollow sadness accompanying the realization that Christmas would never be the same again. I knew I’d never again look up in the sky on Christmas Eve and feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the possibility of seeing a sleigh dart past the stars. I knew I’d never again awaken in the middle of the night to the sounds of crinkling paper and jingle bells, my heart pounding with exhilaration and fear

And then, just recently, I found myself turned completely around in the car, wagging a pointed finger at my kids in the backseat with a reindeer-shit-eatin’ grin on my face, singing along with the radio, “You better be good for goodness sake!” in that classic mom fashion that would have made my teen self cringe.

At that moment, something clicked, and I was taken aback by this sudden jolt of merry rocking my system. As I slowly turned forward in my seat again, mouth agape, I realized what had happened:

I felt it. I felt the magic again.

Excited to be up on Scary Mommy again tonight! Head on over to check out the rest of this post!

The Unexpected Gift I Received From My Kids This Christmas

There comes a time in all of our lives when childhood begins to wane, and along with it the magic and belief in Santa. I remember the hollow sadness accompanying the realization that Christmas would never be the same again. I knew I’d never again look up in the sky on Christmas Eve and feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the possibility of seeing a sleigh dart past the stars. I knew I’d never again awaken in the middle of the night to the sounds of crinkling paper and jingle bells, my heart pounding with exhilaration and fear.

In the years that followed, Christmas became less of a whimsical affair and more of a standard family get-together. My siblings would all come back into town and we’d get to see the cousins again. We’d take bets on which unwitting guest (usually someone’s friend or date) would get sick from eating the turkey our grandma “refrigerated” on the porch and who’d get drunk first off her famous homemade eggnog. There would be brunch and movie marathons, gift cards and wish lists.

But the magic was decidedly gone. There was no rush to hop out of bed before the sunrise, no exuberant squeals at the sight of a sooty boot print by the fireplace. The cookies didn’t even taste as sweet as they once did. I accepted the void as just another one of those grown-up realities we all have to come to terms with at some point.

A few weeks ago, however, I found myself turned completely around in the car, wagging a pointed finger at my kids in the backseat with a reindeer-shit-eatin’ grin on my face, singing along with the radio, “YOU BETTER BE GOOD, FOR GOODNESS SAKE,” in that classic mom fashion that would have made my teen self cringe.

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A Shift in Focus This Christmas

“There are so many toys out, we can’t even walk across the room,” I said to my kids the other day, after stepping on what I swore would be the last block to pierce my bare foot ever again. “Time to pick up. Let’s start with this puzzle.”

My three-year-old responded with his new favorite word: “No.”

“No? Can you toss the pieces into the box like a basketball?” I countered. No. “…’Kaaay. Let’s count how fast you can do it!” No. “You’ll get a sticker for your chart if you just — “ Nope.

Out of tricks, the pleas turned into threats: “If you don’t start taking care of your toys and helping to pick up a little bit, I’M going to clean up with my GARBAGE BAG.” It was a tactic I had recently learned from a friend, and I was eager to see if it would work on my own brood.

“Okay, Mommy.” Record screeches. 

“WHAT? Okay?? You don’t care if I throw this puzzle away? This puzzle you LOVE?”

“No, throw it away,” he said, without even looking up from whatever other game he had started playing.

Flabbergasted, I realized he had called my bluff, and I now had no choice but to get rid of this perfectly good puzzle. I theatrically placed it in a garbage bag and awaited his tumult, but he was utterly unfazed.

With Christmas coming, I worry about the sheer quantity of STUFF that clutters our lives. We are so lucky to be able to afford all we can with three children, and lucky to have friends and family who have the means to spoil them. We have toys on rotation, toys that are forgotten about, clothes that go unworn because we have been given so much. It’s an admittedly good problem to have, but it makes me wonder how we can teach our children contentedness in a world of such abundance, where material items are completely expendable to them because they are always showered with more.

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I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus In Exchange For An Hour Alone With a Cheesecake

santa

Dear Santa,

I know I haven’t been a good girl ALL year. I lied to the kids about what really happened to the Oreos at nap time. Taught my little ones a few choice words during some particularly stressful mealtime preps. I may have even tricked them into an early bedtime once or twice to catch some alone time with the hubs. But I’ve been trying really hard to be the best wife/mother/friend I can be, and overall, I think I’ve come out on top — at least B-plus range! The hospital bill we just got in the mail says all I’m getting for Christmas this year is last month’s epidural, but if you’re feeling generous and my name comes up on the “good” list, I hope you’ll take my wish list into consideration:

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