Santa and the sensor alarm
Some say it’s cruel to let this fantasy world exist in the minds of such innocent little ones, but I can’t help but think reality is going to hit soon enough.
And so it begins.
Once again December is upon us and for most of us, even those sans little ones, the dial seems to get turned up to 11 for planning, events, responsibilities and organisation.
It’s barely scraped into the month of crazy and we’ve already notched up an end-of-year final assembly, a family Christmas day for one of the family’s employers, a staff Christmas party for the other, the Christmas tree has gone up, and later this week we have two more Christmas parties to attend on the same day, but of course.
I amalready tired and the kids, now aged 5 and – ohwait, 4 on Christmas Day – are wired.
See, I’m already losing track because as per every year, I forget my little girl was born on Christmas Day, so we have an important wee birthday in there to celebrate too. The poor girl.
Try as I might to ensure she gets the focus on her for a little bit around her birthday, she still gets swept up into the chaos and I’m forever having to remind people it’s her birthday and it’s only fair she receives as much attention about that as her big brother.
Sometimes it works, most times it doesn’t, and it’s hard to be upset at anyone about it because it’s a simple thing that happens when there’s so much going on for everyone.
All December and early January babies experience it, so for that, I have empathy for you all.
But the neat thing about this age, I have to say, is that Christmas is still a big deal for the kids.
If I’m honest, it’s something that is talked about all year in working out how long it is until Christmas, requests for presents and the inevitable ‘‘I’ll tell Santa’’ to snap the kids out of whatever mood.
I know it’s not good parenting practice, I’m well aware of this, but one thing I’ve noticed this year is the role of authority and the effect it is having on my children about this age.
In our house we have alarm sensors that light up with a red light when motion is detected.
When the kids are perched at the breakfast bar eating their dinner – or in many cases, refusing to eat their dinner – I have been known to utter the words that Santa is watching.
They, of course, reply that no he isn’t, because he’s in the North Pole, etc.
But then, using the powers of the supermum, I am able to rustle up his presence by a simple swipe of my arm up into the air that lights up the red sensor light and has the kids frozen on the spot with two parts fear and one part realisation Santa really is watching them eat their tea.
At first I didn’t think they would fall for it, but wow, they wolfed down the food in front of them and that was that.
It was almost too good to be true. A couple of days later I was in the bathroom and I heard both the kids in the kitchen.
My eldest was speaking in a quiet and clear voice and at first I had wondered who he was talking to.
The tone was serious and his words deliberate. ‘‘Santa’’, he said.
‘‘I would really like some Pokemon toys, Hot Wheels, some wild animals …’’ he stopped to think some more before continuing. I couldn’t help but giggle. Here he was, standing there looking up at the alarm sensor, red light blaring so Santa was ‘‘on’’, pouring his little 5-year-old heart out in the sweetest little voice, filled with hope for a never-ending list of presents.
Some say it’s cruel to let this fantasy world exist in the minds of such innocent little ones, but I can’t help but think reality is going to hit soon enough. All it will take will be one overheard discussion in the playground at school and the Santa ruse will be done for.
Until then, I’m all for anything that makes meal times that little bit more peaceful.