I am afraid I announced my coming back slightly too soon, as it appears I am still struggling with time and not keeping up with posts, either mine or others’. In my defence, I have been very busy, but this time not with the book……well not only with the book…….: I have been busy helping Santa🤶🏻
My house is still a home of believers…..believers in Santa!
To be honest I thought daughter number one would have started to doubt it this year, instead, she didn’t; or at least she had not mentioned it and I assume she still fully believe in the white-bearded presents dispenser and his elves.
Around the first week of December, I usually started to press both the girls to get their mindset on what they want for Christmas.
They always have their ideas pronto, but this year, for some reason, they seemed not to have the usual enthusiasm for something in particular, and for the first time, I had no an idea of what they want either.
The days passed and I started to be tight with time to get organised with the presents, also considering that we are going to Italy for a week before Christmas and, ideally, I would like to have everything sorted before leaving.
One morning, making their beds I noticed on their bedside tables a note for Santa.
“Perfect”, I thought, I took the letters and I went shopping.
When I collected them from school I proudly informed the girls of my initiative to send their Santa’s letters, but after no thank you arrived, I suspected there was something wrong. My suspects became certainty when through the rear mirror of the car I saw daughter number one filling her eyes with tears and daughter number two looking back at me with a murderous look.
In the beginning I couldn’t really understand what the problem was, certainly, it could not be something I did and so, like every conscious mother would have done, I just ignored them. Unfortunately, once home, it was not easy to keep doing that that as the atmosphere in the house was miserable to the highest extent.
“Would you just tell me what’s wrong please?”, I eventually asked.
“Nothing”, the standard answer. In the flood of tears that followed there was nothing standard, and neither were standards all the scary thoughts about what could have possibly happened. “You sent the wrong the letters!”,daughter number two eventually said.
Long story short, those letters I found, have been written before they decided to join forces and ask Santa only one present for both of them.
Our rules are simple, Santa doesn’t bring living presents, (like puppies or pets of any sort) and neither he brings very expensive gifts, (because Santa delivers in any household but not any household has the same economic resources. Big presents, if they can afford them, must come from parents or grandparents not from Santa because the same Santa might have not been able to satisfy the request of some other less fortunate kid).
Now, back to my kids Santa’s letter, they both would like a new video game console. The game is apparently believed to be too expensive as an individual, but if asked as a combined present for both of them, (as they can play with it together),it would fit Santa’ budget and rules. In fairness, their logic did make sense. I had screwed up and even if they said it was ok and they could always ask it for their birthdays, I kept feeling bad and guilty. Not to mention that this combine birthday present idea is not really doable as one was born in June and the other in November; unless ,of course, one would have a very early gift and the other a very late one.
That evening, when I went to kiss them goodnight, I suggested that the following morning, I might have tried to retrieve the letters if they were still at the post office. No promise was done but at least they went to bed a bit more serene….and me too. The traveling husband, in his pragmatism, simply suggested to leave it because, “they will get over it. it is not that they are not getting any present !”, he said. True indeed, harsh but true.
Nearly convinced to leave things as they were on my way to bed, I noticed some letters sticking out their fairies letterboxes. Each fairy had been informed of my screw up and asked to keep her fingers crossed for me to be able to get the letters back.
I totally melted and the following morning I simply span around myself transforming “mama fairy” in “wonder mama”. By school pick up time I had the right so desired gift safely wrapped and hidden at the bottom of my wardrobe and the rest returned and refunded. Mission accomplished
Happy to have fixed my mess I had now a dilemma to face: “To tell or not to tell the girls?”. Will I leave them in their misery until Christmas Eve or will I just say I got the letters back? Undoubtedly a hard decision to take, but in the end, I decided to be graceful and when they asked me if I managed to get their letters back I simply told them the “truth”:
“You know what ? when I got to the post office the bag with the letters had just left for the deposit so there I went, only to find out it was not the right deposit. That kind of post goes to the deposit in Dublin and so I drove nearly into town to the main post service hub. Of course, to get there in time I had to speed across the motorway and a police patrol stopped me to give me a fine but, thankfully, when I told them why I was speeding they offered to escort me to get there quicker. Well, girls, I won’t hide it was a bit of a challenge and it did take me all morning but look what I have here!”, and with a big smile, I took the two Santa’s letters out of my pockets, where they actually were since the day I decided to be Christmas shopping proactive.
I don’t know for how long I will still be able to fool them like that but their pleasantly bewildered faces were priceless.
Even more priceless, it was their sense of gratitude that followed, and while they have been busy slaving away around the house for the rest of the afternoon, I had to enjoy a few hours of reading, sipping tea and eating biscuits. After all, all that driving and chasing left me exhausted. 😉💁🏻♀️