A visit to the North Pole
It's the annual outing every Christmas-celebrating parent makes.
The trip to see Santa Claus. I so wanted that perfect picture of
my son with the famous bearded elf.
The adventure began with a 45 minute wait in line behind all the
other eager parents and children. As the parent of a toddler, I
have come to realize that all of these "special" events are ten
times more exciting for me than for him. I stood there in
blissful anticipation as we crept ever closer to the man in red.
My son, on the other hand, was busy devising a way to tear down
the candy cane border that held us in line. Santa? Who's Santa?
And of course my husband didn't share my enthusiasm either. With
a shocking statement of, "You know what they need to do here is
have two Santas to speed up the process..." I was convinced the
Christmas hopes and dreams of all children within earshot of us
would surely be ruined. Yet I didn't let their lack of interest
get me down. I was determined to get that glorious picture of my
son with Santa to show off to all my friends and family.
And then the moment presented itself. "Would you like a picture
with Santa?" the elf assistant asked. I think I blurted out the
word "Yes" faster than on my wedding day. We stepped into the
North Pole and made our way to St. Nick. I secretly kept my
fingers crossed as my husband placed our darling son on Santa's
lap. We backed up slowly as if we were preparing for a small
bomb to go off. And ironically, one did. My little boy's lips
began to quiver and before we could say, "It's Ok, Santa's your
friend!" the siren already sounded. A scream so shrill it made
the hair on my neck stand up. So, that was the end of that. We
grabbed our son, hung our heads in embarrassment, and quickly
removed ourselves from the North Pole.
Am I really embarrassed? Yes and no. I'm not embarrassed at my
son's behavior. I mean, come on - everything we teach our kids
revolves around being weary of people they don't know. So why
should I be surprised that he gets upset when I put him in the
lap of an overweight, bearded stranger covered in red velvet,
while surrounded by singing plastic animals? I'm proud of him
for not talking to strangers! I am, however, embarrassed at my
own behavior. I admit I get caught up in doing what's "cute" and
not what my son wants to do. He's still so young that he can't
tell me what he wants, so I guess I make those choices for him.
I know that will change very shortly - and I'm sure I will
seriously question the choices he does make. But until then,
we'll see how he handles Santa next year!