A touch o' the Christmas Angst

Last night we were driving home from our ritual of gaping at Christmas lights in a nearby neighborhood. I straddled Fruit Bat and Kitty Cat's car seats because our vehicle is too small to hold three adults and two children comfortably. It was unsafe, sure. But we all laughed hysterically and had a better time for it.

As I was contorted there, my six-foot-two-inch frame bending in ways it should not, I explained to Fruit Bat and Kitty Cat that when we got home we would scramble upstairs and into bed before Santa came. I had hoped to encourage hasty pajama donning and teeth brushing. What I hadn't counted on was my phrase "scramble upstairs" becoming Fruit Bat's mantra. He repeated it various times throughout the rest of the evening until he was a frazzled mess, afraid that Santa would come crashing down our nonexistent chimney before the household's children were nestled snug in their beds.

His anxiety evolved into fear not just that Santa would come too soon, but that he was coming at all. And I can't say I blame him. The idea of an elephantine man tiptoeing around the living room in black, steel-toed boots is a bit worrisome, even to me.

Fruit Bat was so worked up I was tempted to confess Santa's true identity. In the end, I kept mum and we agreed to leave milk and cookies just outside the front door for the Big Bad Man, who would telepathically and expertly position the presents under the tree.

Santa came and went without incident (besides the fact that he left 505 toys for the kids and an ipod nano for me) and all was fairly festive throughout the morning. I spent the entire afternoon downloading music to my new, shiny saltine cracker and succumbed to a deep but fleeting depression when I noticed the waste of this:

A few months ago, as J. and I were preparing late in the night for a flight to Michigan the next morning, he sighed and said, "It's so weird that we're the parents now". That we were the ones arranging it all, anticipating the worst that could happen, readying the supplies. Because we were (and still are) totally unqualified, just kids ourselves, right?

On Christmas Eve as we filled stockings and dispersed wrapped gifts, trying not to rustle too loudly or approximate in any way the sound of big boots clomping across wooden floors, that quote flickered through my head over and over.

It is so weird that we're the parents now.

Comments

[BethanyWD]

I think that ALL THE TIME. I still feel 16 (I don't LOOK 16, but you get my point).

This was the first year we did the milk and cookies thing for Santa (my kids are 4.5 and 2.5); they LOVED it. I think the note was a nice touch ("be good to people all year!"), so I may be stealing that from you.

Merry Christmas - we got snow today in Seattle - could you believe it?

[AndreAnna]

I JUST had this conversation the other night. Like, who decided I'm allowed to get married and have children? How am I possibly qualified to keep a marriage, home, and children when I'm only 17? Alas, I am more than a decade older than that, but that's still how I feel.

Like it's all a big joke and there's no way I'm a parent or wife.

[Leanne]

It sounds like you had a good time!

I avoid all stresses and potential "outing" - for 11 years we have managed to keep Christmas magical for the girls, and we so enjoy it.

Santa doesn't come in the house, we have to wait up for him. He drops the gifts off by the back door for us, and we have to bring them in and wrap them for him. We always give him the treats and drink the girls leave out, and he reads their note to him and scribbles out a quick reply.

This way, they know not to come out and peek - all they will see is us wrapping the gifts he left for them. ;)

We also found a house nearby that has their lights programmed with a local radio station! It was so cool to watch - we just sat there in front of their house for several minutes! LOL

[Asthmagirl]

It's weird to be the person in charge alright. You get used to it, but it still never feels like you were adequately prepared.
I like the note thing also.
I have my husband the Nano and didn't see him the rest of the day. He yelled down that he had something like 34 days of music on there. As long as he's happy!

[Emily R]

I have often held that Santa would scare the dickens out of me if I were a kid...

[Lyssa Ireland Thomas]

It is wonderful to hear that other people feel that way of "being in charge." My mother was almost 15 years younger than me when she had her first child. Yet, she always seemed so mature!

[Carrie]

I too am in awe that I'm the grown-up in charge. Eeeeeeek!

Hope your holiday was merry! It certainly sounds as if it was!

[Deb (Missives From Suburbia)Deb]

I love being the HBIC. It's so much fun if you don't think about it too hard.

[mama's got moxie]

oh yeah, i feel the same daggone way... like whoa, how'd i get here?? hahaha...