Rest in Peace, Santa

"Mommy, one time I was at Miss Monica's house, and I saw a toy that we got from the Easter Bunny, and I asked her about it, and Miss Monica said, 'That's because your mom and I went shopping together.'  Is the Easter Bunny real?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

Hesitantly, Mary Grace said, "Yes."

"No, honey, the Easter Bunny is a story parents make up to make Easter magical for their children."

"Oh."  (pause)  "What about Santa?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Claire?"

"Yes."

"(deep breath)  No, guys, Santa's not real.  The spirit of Santa is real, and there's a little bit inside everyone who believes in that spirit, but there's no jolly man who comes down the chimney and leaves gifts for children.  That was me and your dad because we're Santa's helpers.  And again, parents lie to their kids about these things to help make their childhoods more magical."

"So Santa was never real?"

"No, there was a real man named St. Nicholas who lived a long time ago, and that's who Santa is based on."

"Woah, so you bought our American Girl dolls?" Mary Grace asked.

"Yep."

"You have a hundred dollars???" Claire said.

"Not anymore," I replied.  "So now that you know the truth, you have two jobs.  First, you can't spoil it for other kids who still believe.  Second, you have to help Daddy and I make Christmas magical for kids who still believe, like Jack, and everyone else.  Maybe when we go shopping this year you can buy Jack's gift from Santa.  Would you like that?"

"YEAH!"

"Mommy," Mary Grace said after a moment, "is anyone else a made up story?"

"Like who?"

"The Tooth Fairy, is she real?"

"Nope."

"OH MY GOSH!" she yelled, falling back against the couch.

I knew this day would come...  (Here's the post from 1000 years ago saying we weren't going to do Santa, and here's the follow up from when everyone flipped their lids.  Santa even got passive aggressive and threatened to bring drum sets and tubas to the girls if we didn't see the error of our ways!  LOL)

I feel a little sad that they're old enough to know, and I feel like a part of childhood is over for them forever, but I also feel kind of relieved.  I think I handled it pretty well.  They didn't cry.  Well, I take that back, Claire cried during the conversation but that was because Jack poked her in the eye.  I think they'll be ok.

Han Solo Just Scared The Crap Outta Me

Our friends the Perrys gave us a life sized cardboard cutout of Han Solo today. MG immediately claimed it.

So, BJ and I watched a movie tonight. Afterward, at midnight, I came upstairs to get ready for bed. The kids sleep with their doors open so I didn't turn on the hall lights - I just had my phone in my hand when I saw this:

I assure you it was much more startling without the flash. 

I yelled "SHIT" followed quickly by a disparaging comment about BJ, thinking he was the culprit.  

When he stopped laughing he told me that the whole thing was Mary Grace's idea!  "Let's put this where it'll scare Mommy!" she apparently said.

Oh, it's on kiddo. It's on.

Misunderstanding

On the way to the sitter's house this morning, Jack said, "Have ickies, Mommy?"

"What?"

"Have ickies?"

"I don't understand, honey, have ickies?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't have ickies."

"I have ickies?"

"No, you don't have ickies."

"Oh."  Pause.  "Have a hug, Mommy?"

Oh my gosh, he was asking for a KISS.  Have a kiss, have ickies.  I am a horrible mother.

Of course I gave him about a thousand kisses as soon as I got to Erin's house.

Not So Fast

While doing some online back-to-school clothes shopping, Claire informed me that she no longer likes polka dots, and that she wants to wear a lot of black because it "goes with everything."

Every single item she picked out was black or denim.

Isn't 6-1/2 a little young for a goth phase?

So if you see her walking around looking like a midget Morticia Adams, know that I tried.  But she doesn't like purple anymore.  Purple is for babies, Mom.

Also, we're growing out her bangs, and she refuses to keep any sort of barrette or bow in them for more than eleven seconds, so her hair is always in her eyes.  I get after her, constantly, to push it to the side, "you know, the way Mimi wears hers?" but it doesn't do much good.

If she gets into my eyeliner, I swear I'm sending her to boarding school.

Middle child syndrome, y'all.  It's a thing.

Mary Grace is Eight!

(I wrote this Friday night and scheduled it to auto-publish on 8/10, but I must have done something wrong because it never did.  Sorry, Kiddo...)

Dear Mary Grace,

Once a year I have a good cry about my baby being X years old, and how could that possibly be because it seems like just yesterday... blah blah blah.  But seriously, you were just born, how can you be 8 already?

Official First Grade School Picture

This year I've really started to see glimpses of the adult you're becoming.  For example, your brother had the stomach flu, and he threw up all over the new house, and you helped me clean it up!  I was stunned.  I mean, I'm the mom and I still have to put on my big girl undies to clean up vomit, and there you were helping, for real, without being asked.  It was pretty awesome.

You're going into second grade, which blows my mind completely.  You love school, you love to read, you love learning about science.  You're awesome at everything.  You totally take after your dad.

Daddy, Superman, and Mary Grace at ComicCon.

In fact, considering that Daddy didn't even think you liked him when you were a baby, you've turned into quite a Daddy's girl.  As I write this, you and your siblings are downstairs with him watching Star Wars.  You had a great time with him at ComicCon, and you're looking forward to GenCon with him next weekend.

Adler Planetarium - October 2012

When we were in San Diego, you totally geeked out over the pandas at the San Diego Zoo.  I love watching you get that excited over things like that.  We had to go straight to the pandas, because you just couldn't stand to wait any longer.  

50s day at school - Poodle Skirt Costume

I've been having technical difficulties with everything, so these pictures are largely from last year...  Sorry about that kiddo.  But honestly, I'm having a good time looking through them.

This is animated on my screen. I don't know if it'll show up that way in the post or not. Crazy.

You're just awesome, Cuppycake.  I don't write about you much anymore because you've got your own voice, and I feel like your stories are your own to tell (and let's face it, with moving and everything Mom hasn't written much about anyone in a while).  But don't think for a minute that it's because you're any less awesome and fascinating than you were the day you were born.  You get more awesome and more fascinating every day.

Here's the checklist I started doing a million years ago:

Your favorite toy for playing is: your bow and arrow (it's real!)

Your favorite toy for snuggling is: your panda bears

Your favorite foods: cheese pizza and anything sweet

Your favorite book is: Nancy Drew

Your favorite activity is: board games

Your favorite place to go is: Dave & Busters

Your best friend is: Ava

Something new that you're doing: cleaning up - for real!

Something you've mastered: riding a bike without training wheels

Something people say about you: "She's so tall!"  (they also like to play with your hair)

Something that you're saying is: you've learned to whistle, and you do it a lot

Something Dad and I are proud of you for: I can't pick just one thing.  We're proud of EVERYTHING you are, Cuppycake.

Something surprising about you: you have a great sense of humor, you make us laugh all the time

What you want to be when you grow up: you said that you want to find a cure for cancer *sniff*

I love you to bits, Happy Birthday!

Love,

Mom