With only a couple of weeks until the big man in scarlet arrives, our house seems to be perpetually in a state of anticipation. I'm sure yours is much the same! I have always loved Christmas, but I can't ever remember enjoying it so much as I am now, with my three little cherubs in tow. Our house is draped in tinsel (cheap and relatively unbreakable!) and homemade baubles, we have a (tiny) Christmas tree perched on top of the TV cabinet that Maisie cannot reach...yet...and we have watched The Polar Express more times than is decent. Jack and Phoebe sing all the carols they know with gusto (never mind the fact their lyrics are a fair bit different to the correct ones!), which is very cute especially when they are also doing a nudey run...
We have visited Santa and sat on his knee for the obligatory cheesy-grinned photo; we have told him breathlessly what we would like to find in our stockings; we have even received personalised video messages from Santa which prompted the cutest little responses from our babes (and by the way, I highly recommend this, especially for naughty spouses: http://www.portablenorthpole.tv/home) Tonight, Maisie was entranced by the toy train running around the bottom of Grandma and Grandpa's Christmas tree (and she actually managed to get one of the glass baubles off before her evil plans were thwarted). It seems as though for the last month, everything we do is tinged with red, green and glitter of some sort...and it has led to a tiny, weeny little problem.
This whole business of the "naughty and nice" list held in the hot little hand of Kris Kringle has caused a fair few issues of late for Team O'Toole. Now I'll admit my kids are predominantly well-behaved, with a healthy dose of tantrum thrown into the mix on a regular basis. Unless they are exceptionally tired or overwrought, for the most part they are pretty sunny little people. I can usually get around a bad mood through a stint in the naughty spot, a nap or a distraction. Lately, however, end-of-year tiredness and a near-constant state of excitement about Christmas has rendered my big kids a little more difficult than usual. It's not that they have earned a permanent spot on the naughty list, more along the lines of temporarily hopping onto its' fringes. And of course, they are very aware that Santa does not come to children who misbehave, and so the question remains: how naughty is too naughty?
Who decides how far Santa can be pushed? Where is the line in the sand as far as your position on the naughty/nice list? Phoebe is so worried about missing out on her pink scooter that she keeps checking: "Are you happy at me, Mummy?" (in other words, is Santa still going to come?) Jack, on the other hand, appears to be intrigued about how far he can push the boundaries...he's careful to err on the side of caution, because after all, he wouldn't want Santa to give his Toy Story Lego to another little boy...but I reckon there's a tiny part of my son that's curious to see if Santa's calling his bluff.
I for one can't wait for Christmas morning - it's Maisie Mouse's first Christmas, and with three kids under the age of five, the magic in the air will be tangible. It will be absolutely gorgeous to watch their little faces light up when they see those bulging pillowcases under the tree, and just imagine Mais when she gets amongst the wrapping paper... But on top of the magic of Christmas morning, and the delicious (and calorie free!) lunch with my family that awaits, do you know what I'm looking forward to? Not having to weigh up every little misdemeanour that my children are involved in and worry that I might have to threaten them with going on the naughty list! What on earth would I do if they actually did something heinous? I don't think I could bear it if Santa bypassed our house! Oh Santa, hurry up and get here soon...
No comments:
Post a Comment