By Amber
My 2 1/2-year-old daughter Hadley is finally grasping the whole concept of Santa and has embraced him whole-heartedly. And why wouldn't she? All she has to do is make a list of desired toys and this big guy in red will deliver -- Brilliant!
It makes me miss those magical days of youth. Of course, I'm still hoping Santa receives my list and will clean my house, send my Christmas cards and do all my holiday shopping (though visions of cleaning supplies aren't nearly as enchanting as sugarplums, whatever the heck those are).
I was always kind of a skeptic when it came to Santa. My parents could never provide me with a convincing answer as to why he magically appeared at every mall during the season (and always at the same time) or why he couldn't remember what he brought me the year prior.
Yes, I tested him. And he always flunked.
I couldn't really hold it against him though, because he always overlooked those years when I ranked as more naughty than nice.
To make believers out of our family, we recently visited the North Pole of the lower 48 in Cascade, Colorado. There we found a child's wonderland: a Christmas-themed amusement park, complete with The Man in Red, whimsical toy shops, festive rides, entertaining shows and yummy food.
I extensively prepped Hadley prior to her Santa encounter because I didn't want her to have some wretched freak-out over the man who could secure her future happiness. I had no reason to worry. Like a kid on a gluttonous mission, she plopped herself down on his lap, recited her list as if her life depended on it, posed obligingly for a photo and jumped down.
She meant business when it came to the rides as well. That plucky little thing not only hit the candy cane slide and the Christmas tree ride, she also went on all the adult rides with me and mocked her father for being a "scaredy kitty." There's nothing like a grammatically-challenged bully.
We have long suspected Haddie is a tomboy due to her obsession with sports, trains and the fact that she uses her dolls as speed bumps with her stroller. She has a few girly interests, such as make-up and clothes, but we figured the test would be when we entered the girl's and boy's toy shops.
Sure enough, she grew quickly bored in the former but as soon as we entered the latter, she screeched "COOOOL!" and raced over to a huge Thomas the Train track. I won't go into our sordid history with this evil train, but just know our last encounter with him at Toys 'R Us resulted in drawing her father's blood as he attempted to drag her away kicking and screaming. Oh, and then she had to be accompanied out of the store with a balloon by the manager. I wonder if this means she's been banned?
When it came time to leave the toy shop, I stealthily made my way towards the door leaving my husband in charge. This time was no different. Again, she screamed, kicked and went for his jugular. He eventually dragged her out of there, leaving us incredulous because we've never seen her react that way over any toy.
Rest assured, this very train track was at the top of her Christmas list. And when we asked if Santa would approve of her naughty behavior, she assured us he would: "Santa makes Thomas. Santa knows Haddie has The Loooove and must have. It's Santa's fault, not Haddie's."
At least now I know who to blame.
Amber is a former adventure-travel writer turned adventurous unraveling mother to two-year-old Hurricane Hadley and baby Bode.
I remember those Thomas days... walking unwittingly into a store and bam! there's that da*n train track. ;)
Loved your post!
Posted by: Karen | December 01, 2006 at 10:26 AM
I can soooo relate to this entry. Painfully. :-)
Posted by: Manny | November 29, 2006 at 05:21 PM
I just love your stories about the hurricane. She cracks me up!
What a fun place to visit, wish they had something like that here!
Posted by: Jenn | November 29, 2006 at 03:32 PM