First: Thank you for your comments on my last post and mama digs essay. Your thoughtful words mean so much to me. You are the best. (also, not sure what’s happening with those of you who are unable to comment! I am trying to sort it out.)
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Santa.
Year One: Margot, nearly 1
She just stared at that man like Hey, how about you? You been naughty or nice this year? Tell me about it fella.
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Year Two: Margot, nearly 2; Ruby, one month
Ruby had just been home from the hospital after her two week icu stay. She was tucked into a sling on me and it felt so great to do something so normal.
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Year Three: Margot, nearly 3; Ruby 1
Both girls were excited to see Santa until the boy in front of us fell, hit his head and screamed while his mom placed and held his arched body on Santa’s lap. Ruby started crying, no longer wishing to see Santa. Margot still wanted to see Santa and, well, the photo explains that she was still computing what had just happened. We talked about that little boy for days.
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Year Four: Margot, nearly 4; Ruby 2
The girls spent over and hour drawing pictures for Santa. They climbed up on the giant red lap and Santa looked right at Ruby with an exaggerated grin and said, “Hello little girl! What do you have there?” and Ruby clutched her glitter crayon drawing and cried. Margot had a blast and continued to chat it up with Santa long after I grabbed Ruby from his lap.
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Year 5: Margot, nearly 5; Ruby 3
I forgot that Santa would ask what they’d like for Christmas so it was great fun to listen in on their spontaneous answers. Margot asked for a leotard and Ruby explained, with a serious brow, that her owl hat was too small. “Because I growing and growing,” she said with her arms outstretched. She’d like a new hat. Which is awesome because I happened to have already purchased her a new hat! This one that is even more adorable in real life.
Also, I asked the photographer if he heard bells in his sleep because Santa has bells on his wrists that jingled jingled jingled all the way. He replied, “Nah. That’s what whisky’s for.”
