A Letter to Santa

I realize that it is pretty early to be thinking about Christmas.  I’ve been trying to reserve holiday preparations for after Thanksgiving.  We haven’t put up our tree yet, for example.  But in the mind of young children, it is never too early to start thinking about Christmas.

We have some books that were given to us by another homeschooling family with older children.  Among the stash, my 5-year-old found a book of Christmas cut-outs with a page at the back for writing a letter to Santa.  My son is just learning how to write and was very excited by this development.  He sat down and got right to work.  When I finished my morning chores, I checked in on him.  He was just adding the finishing touches.  I asked if he’d like to read it to me.

He read, “Dear Santa, I love you.  Love,” and he had signed his name.  I have to admit, I was surprised.  I assumed he would write a letter about what he wanted for Christmas, like most kids.  I asked him, “What do you love about Santa?”  He replied, “I love that he eats the cookies we put out!”

Not to be outdone, my 3-year-old piped up, “I wrote a letter, too!”  She showed me a paper with her scribbles on it and told me it said, “Dear Jesus, thank you for Santa.  Amen.”

Their beautiful innocence is so precious to me.  That sweetness will carry me through all the rush and bustle of the season, reminding me to take the time to consider what’s really important.

I have the script memorized!

I’m beginning to understand just why we need to be careful what we say around our children.

My kids have this amazing ability to remember, with frighteningly accurate detail, every scene from their precious movies.  Today, while waiting for the kids at dance class, I was chatting with my friend.  She and I share the driving, as our children have class together but the classes don’t start at the same time.  I drive the big kids early, and she arrives later with our little ones.  She told me that my daughter provided the entire script of an episode of “The Magic School Bus” in the car.  Apparently, she was explaining how digestion works.

Now, why doesn’t this amazing memory apply to other things?  Say, putting dirty laundry in the wash bin, or washing up before dinner, or not hitting each other on the head with plastic sticks?

When You Grow Up

The other day, my 5-year-old was playing on the playground.  All of a sudden, he came to me and said, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a teacher, just like Daddy.”  I asked him what kind of teacher he wanted to be.  He said, “A science teacher.”  We’ve been joking with him that he’s going to be an electrical engineer because he’s so fascinated with how things work, in particular anything having to do with power or electricity.  But this was the first time he actually had an idea himself about his future.

A couple of nights later, he couldn’t sleep and his dad was at a late meeting.  So my son and I put on “Dancing with the Stars.”  I thought he’d be kind of bored (the idea was to bore him to sleep).  But since he himself is a dancer, he was actually interested.  I asked if he thought he’d like to do those dances someday.  He said, “Yes.  When I grow up, I’m going to be an electrical engineer and a science teacher and a dancer.”  I’m glad that for him, the sky is still the limit.

Parenting an Alien

Our church just started a new series, “The Creature from Another Planet.”  It’s all about parenting.  In honor ofthe new sereies, I’m starting a new blog.  Just to illustrate the point of kids being like alien life forms, I will now transcribe a recent conversation I had at dinner with my 3-year-old:

3-year-old (pointing to my plate): Is that your snake?

Me: My what?

3yo (pointing): Your snake.

Me: My snake?

3yo (giggling): No, snake.

Me: Snake?

3yo (a little frustrated): Snake! Snake!

Me: Snake?

5-year-old (translating for his sister, clearly exasperated): She meant is that your steak.

Me: Steak?

3yo: Yes!  Your snake!

I’m usually pretty good at speaking preschooler.  For some reason, the way she was speaking was just unintellgible.  Fortunately, when I get in a real bind, my son can easily translate for my daughter.   It helps to have an interpreter when landing on Planet Kid.