EXPERIENCE THE SANTICIPATION

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Well, here we are a mere day away from Christmas, and I think I can say without a doubt that tomorrow cannot come soon enough.

While I enjoy Christmas as much as the next person, I am excited about Christmas because I can finally change my answer to the question, “Is it Christmas yet?”

I have been asked this question roughly 400 billion times. And that was just yesterday. Ah, the life of a 3-year-old at Christmas time. Santicipation!

This is the first year that my daughter, Allie, has an awareness about Christmas. She was about five months old for her first Christmas, so she basically just sat there and tried to eat bows. On her second Christmas, she was pretty mobile, so she enjoyed climbing among the wrapping paper and what-not, but really didn’t care one way or the other about the actual gifts. We could have given her plastic cutlery and she would have been thrilled. Last year was still a lot of fun, but I am not sure she had a total grasp of the concept. A 2-year-old has very little concept of anything, so plopping a big tree in the middle of the den with a bunch of colorfully wrapped boxes may or may not be the norm. She doesn’t have a much of a normalcy baseline.

But this year, the flood gates are open. She is aware of the whole idea Of Christmas. Well, more importantly she is aware that she is getting stuff. And she has made the connection that television commercials are wonderful ways to identify the stuff that you absolutely must have.

Pretty much anything she sees on television now goes on her Christmas list. She wants a toy horse, a doll, the cast of C.S.I., etc. When the tree first went up and the presents went underneath, she was enthralled. She, of course, assumed every present was for her. We explained that the presents were for everyone, and she responded with, “No. They’re mine.” We gently explained again. She acquiesced, and agreed to let her brother have one. Call it a draw.

After a few days of the presents under the tree, the temptation was too much, and she went ahead and opened one. Fortunately, she did open one of hers. Otherwise, she may have been a little confused as to why she was getting, say, a men’s dress shirt.

When my wife saw that she was in the process of opening the gift, she tried to stop her, but was defeated with brilliant 3-year-old logic.

MY WIFE: Allie, you can’t open that!

ALLIE: (looking at the half-ripped paper): But it’s a Care Bear.

MY WIFE: But you’re not supposed to open it until Christmas.

ALLIE: But I NEEEEEEED a Care Bear.

And Allie now has a new Care Bear in her room.

But since that time, we have managed to keep her away from the presents. Since she has been to about a bajillion birthday parties, I figured I would use a little theology to keep her at bay. I think I may have just confused her, because now she wants a tree for her birthday party, too.

This is also the first year she would sit on Santa’s lap. In years past, she would shriek in terror if you got anywhere near something of that ilk. She had the same reaction when we were at Disney World and a caricature came and plopped down in a seat next to her. But, in all fairness, having a seven-foot raccoon saddle up next to you can be a little unnerving, regardless of age.

She visited Santa while at her grandparents’ house in Florida. She was amazed that Santa was able to make it back to her hometown. I explained to her that Santa has diplomatic immunity and is therefore not bound by speed limits. He can also embezzle without consequence and fish without a  license. Other parents in the mall did not think that was funny.

One thing I have been careful not to do is leverage Santa for good behavior. First off, I think the idea of big, old, fat bearded guy watching you — even when you sleep — is a little unsettling. I know I would find it difficult to sleep at night with the thought of Burl Ives peering through my window. Secondly, it wouldn’t do any good. She might settle down for about four seconds, and then would be back to her hyped-up ways. But that’s the way it should be. After all, it’s Christmas. And it’s incredibly exciting to know that under that tree, wrapped up just for you, may be Marg Helgenberger.