Tuesday, December 22, 2015

When Have Boys Become Too Old for Santa's Lap?


Happy Birthday to my sweet hubby!  He got just what he wanted for his birthday: he passed his boards!  Woo hoo!



Running friends "dressed up" (aka out of running clothes) for Marie's Gingerbread party. 


Collin working on his masterpiece!


Cousins celebrating the holidays a few days early.


We also celebrated the December/January birthdays.


5/6th of my family was part of the celebrated.  As you can clearly see, this birthday crew simply cannot take a decent picture.


Per our annual tradition, the boys jumped into the Celebration Crossing train at the Indiana State Museum.


Some boys found the experience to be about as exciting as paint drying, but they humored this mama.

The entire crew in their "holiday" wear.

As we were standing in line to see Santa, I was struck with an epiphany:  my children have gotten older.

I looked at the family behind me.  They were all dressed in Christmas sweaters with Christmas light necklaces draped around their neck.  (Yes, their lights even flashed in rhythm!)  They brought their two young daughters, both clad in their Christmas finest with expressions of eager anticipation.  Extended family, equally excited Grandparents, joined in the festivities and shared in the holiday cheer.

This family wasn't unique.  The line was packed with families toting little ones dressed in holiday wear.

And then there was us.

Remember that song, "One of these things is not like the other."

We were the thing not like the other.

Getting a 13 year old to stand in a line for Santa is about as easy as convincing said teen to hold mom's hand in public.  And my 11 year old shared his older brother's sentiments.  It would have been easy to cave and ditch Santa, but my youngest son is six years old.  I couldn't zap him from the experience.

Getting the boys to Santa was half the battle.  The second half was holiday wear.  That's the half that I waved the white flag in surrender.  We comprised: they showed up, I didn't fuss over the attire.

As expected, holiday wear was missing from our collective wardrobe.  The boys broke out their comfy clothes, sweats and athletic shirts.  At least they went with a theme, I whispered as I comforted myself.

The girl in front of us in line lingered with Santa.  She actually broke out her mom's phone in which she could pull up her Christmas wish list.  Santa listened intently and her entourage (extended family) snapped enough pictures to last a lifetime.

When it was our turn, the boys sat nicely for the picture, but exchanged few pleasantries with the man in red.

As we were leaving, I wondered if this was our last year with Santa.  It had to end sometime, but that "sometime" arrived so soon.

But the end of Santa's lap, did not have to be a bad thing.  Maybe it signified the beginning of a new tradition.  One in which teen boys don't have to be dragged, and can flourish.

Too be continued next Christmas.


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