Christmas without Santa. . .

It is Christmas Eve! I hope that everyone is where they need to be, or at least safely on the way. I really hope that no one gets snowed in at work tonight!

I saw something online yesterday that I had planned to write about today, but then at the boy’s bedtime something came up that was more blog worthy than the Catalan caganer. Although I suggest you Google that because it falls into the What the WHAT?! Category. But I digress. . .

Yesterday we finished out Christmas gift shopping. I took Matthew to Barnes & Noble, AND Half price books. Kat took Paul to Half Price Books. Then after dinner Kat took Matthew back to Barnes & Noble, while I took Paul to the gift store at Baptist hospital, (don’t ask). Busy night.

When the shopping was over we gathered at home and were going to have a quiet family interlude and watch the Charlie Brown Christmas DVD. Kat and Matthew had glasses of cranberry punch, and Paul and I had eggnog. Except for the part where the boys could not stop arguing long enough to start the movie, it would have been one of those hallmark moments.

The arguing continued till bedtime and as I tucked them in, they were still going at it. Matthew was yelling at Paul for having “bad thoughts” and not focusing on the positive. Paul countered with an accusation that Matthew was “slow to learn”. Matthew yelled that he knew what that meant, and it was his phrase that Paul was stealing. In desperation I said to the boys that when I was a child on the night before Christmas Eve I would not have risked this behavior as I was sure the elves watching me would have reported bad behavior back to Santa Clause and then I would have gotten no gifts from Santa.

My point was to cause my children to consider their behavior. Of course if you know us, or have read some of the other entries, you know we do not do Santa Claus with the boys, and so the threat was meaningless to them. Their reaction is the stuff of legend.

“Papa, did you REALLY believe in Santa?”
”Well, yes. When I was a child”
“Oh Papa that is messed up”
“Auntie Jen, Uncle Ben and Aunt Julie all believed too”
“No, Papa, you are making that up, it is not true”
”It is true, Grandpa Jerry used to do Santa with us when we were kids”
“Grandpa Jerry believes in Santa Clause?”
“Well I am sure when he was a kid. . .”
“And he is a THERAPIST now? That is soooo wrong”
“HEY! My mom did Santa too; her parents probably did Santa with her as well”
”Oh wow, how could anyone let her work with kids?”
”Talk about slow to learn. . .”
”I sure hope no one finds out that so many of our family believed”
”I know, right? How EMBARRASING!”

I am not sure where I went wrong. Sure, my kids know that Jesus is the reason for the season, and have not been confused with the whole Santa Clause business, but last night I was thinking perhaps I neglected to teach them to be compassionate.
Kat assures me they are very compassionate and loving, to other people, but that this sarcasm and derision is reserved for me alone. How can I be so lucky?