The Santa Crisis

I believe in Santa Claus. I have always believed in him.

I have put a lot of thought into this recently. I do not yet have children, but I want them so badly to believe in Santa Claus and have made this very well known with my husband. A friend of mine recently had a daughter who lost a tooth, thus sparking conversation amongst her playmates about "mythical" characters such as the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and - *gasp*- Santa Claus. My friend Kate (the mother) explained:

I didn't expect this so soon. I told her that all of them are real and that We Believe no matter what other people say! I said, "if you don't believe then they don't come anymore..."

I was so relieved! I thought that she saved the innocence of this little girl and dodged a bullet on the whole thing. However, when Kate brought this up at dinner with about 8 other friends she was attacked! As Christians, there was a lot of discussion and story telling about kids who found out the truth about the "magic" of Christmas and later also concluded that Jesus was not real either.

I was so heartbroken! I have heard this argument before and always dismissed it as such a stupid excuse. So, let me tell you my story-

As the oldest of 5 children, I had no older siblings whispering in my ear. Even if I had, I was filled with blind faith. I was not stupid. I knew that the "logic" of Santa didn't make sense, but I also didn't believe that everything in life had to be logical. I truly believed in magic. My parents took us to Disneyland every year and nothing was pretend. It was just magic. So it was with Christmas and that was good enough for us! Scripture stories were referred to as "miracles" but they seemed basically interchangeable to me.

When I was about 10, I had heard some talk at school, but I basically just ignored it with the smugness that I just knew more than the other kids. Then my younger sister started to pipe up. "Santa can't be real," she would say and give me all these reasons. I still didn't dare believe it. She'd argue that Santa at the mall didn't have a real beard and I'd think, "So what? That doesn't mean Santa Claus isn't real! It just means the Santa perpetrator at the mall isn't real!" That Christmas I put some thought into it and wanted to do some slight investigating. I thought, "There's no way that Santa's not real. Our parents would NEVER buy us that much stuff!" Ha. That's funny. But, I remember going to a Christmas party at my Grandma's house where the big guy showed up. It was my birthday (December baby) and Santa (who had a real beard) knew it and called me by my name without asking and proceeded to tell me that he had a daughter who had a birthday on the 18th of December. Now, most of you out there are probably thinking- HELLO! That guy was friends with your grandma and totally broke character to tell you about his family! But, instead, I started to see Santa through different eyes. He was a real person! He had a real life, a real family. If there was any time for me to stop believing it was right then. I think my desire to believe just overpowered my desire for logic and I have never doubted since.

I found an Easter present meant for me when I was in 5th grade. It was a recorder with Beauty and the Beast accompaniment. I was SO excited! How awesome was that?! (Insert current-day chuckle). I mentioned to my mom that learning to play Beauty and the Beast music would be so fun. Uh oh. Cover blown. Later that night she asked me to talk with her privately in her bedroom. She got me to admit that I had found the gift. She asked, "so what does that mean?" I looked down ashamedly and mumbled, "the Easter Bunny isn't real." I was afraid I wouldn't get the gift on Easter, in spite of the fact that she had not hid it well. She asked threateningly, "who else?" I said, still looking at the floor, "Tooth Fairy." Then it came, "WHO else?" My head snapped up in confusion and my mom gave me that inquiring look. She said hesitantly, "what about... Santa Claus?" My eyes flew wide open (you would have thought I'd have seen where this was going) and I declared, "OH NO! HE'S REAL!" She was satisfied. She smiled and said that I was right and told me I wouldn't be punished as long as I pretended the Easter Bunny was real for my younger brothers and sisters.

I remember being in Jr. High and laying in bed one December night thinking about Santa Claus. I still anticipated Christmas morning but logic was starting to overcome my childlike faith as I became a young adult. I knew if I asked my mom, she would tell me the truth. Let's be honest- I was about 13 at this point and I am sure she felt so lucky that I had held on so long. Still, my biggest fear was that if I asked, the magic would end. At that point, I didn't want to know the truth. I knew my mom would NEVER tell me if I never asked. Still, I remember contemplating the whole scenario and thinking, "Ok, if I choose to believe, when will they tell me? My wedding day? When I have my first child?" I was so afraid of the harsh reality of finding out that there was no Santa Claus.

It was finally in 8th grade when I started mentioning to my mom at the mall that maybe Santa could bring that new sweater I wanted. We still discussed him as if he were real with an underlying understanding that my parents played a part in his arrival. This year my mom mentioned to me that yes, they did a lot of work to make Christmas special for us, but that she still believed in Santa. He was just different than what we imagined. At that point I was old enough to understand the importance of believing in Santa Claus. At our house, he wasn't just the secular representation of Christmas. He was a reminder of so many good and wonderful things in the world, in the same spirit that Christ gives us hope for a beautiful and wonderful life. I have never understood how the two could be separated.

In addition, I later went on to work at Disney in their character department as an adult. Like I said, as a young child everything was real. Seeing Disney behind the scenes sure brought a sense of reality to my world, but that didn't change the way I affected the thousands of people I met each day for whom it would never get any more real. It brought a new sense of understanding to what is real and what was not. Were these characters created in an animation studio? Yes. Some would say that would make them not real, and yet, here I was portraying this "fake" person every day. I wasn't fake. People didn't treat me like I was fake. This was my life and it was very much real- it was magic.

The Christmas I spent at Disney was the first I spent away from home. I couldn't be with my family and I spent it with my best friend, Britney, who was my roommate at the time. I was really anxious about it. I thought it would be less magical. Don't get me wrong, it was much different than Christmases past, but it was wonderful. I was still excited to get up and open my stocking. We only had about a 12 inch tree, there was no snow, there was no Christmas dinner, but somehow Santa had found us. Working at Disney, we say of those people who can separate the magic from the reality, and still believe, that they are "full of pixie dust." I have always been. I consider it one of my greatest talents.

Another year, I spent the holiday season as a nanny for a wonderful Jewish family with 3 children, ages 9, 7, and 4. There was much discussion about Christmas and Hanukkah. The oldest, in particular, would express concern to me about Santa Claus. Obviously he didn't come to their house and obviously it was an unfathomable tale that children were stupid to believe in anyway (the workings of her little brain were so intense to begin with!). Yet, I never confirmed her conclusion, just gave her things to think about that didn't contradict her own religion, and all 3 kids would ask me privately, "Do you believe in Santa Claus?" with some hope that maybe there was some truth, something magical that they couldn't explain and didn't participate in, that existed in the world. I always said confidently, "I do." I think it intrigued them that as an adult I would say that, whether I was just being indulgent or not. It impressed me that they had enough desire to believe even though they were never taught the ways of Santa Claus.

Christmas continued to change after I was married and suddenly spending it with "strangers." My husband and his family's understanding of Santa Claus was different, but he was still very real. I'm sure it will be much different when I have children of my own, and I can only imagine that that is when believing in Santa Claus will be more important than it's ever been before.

On a spiritual note, I have a great, deep, and fulfilling love for Jesus Christ. I have felt his love present in my life in so many ways. I appreciate the sacrifice He made for each one of us and try my very hardest to live worthy of that sacrifice. I have also never doubted His existence, even His presence, in my life. My relationship with Him is personal, rich, and filled with too many blessings to count. I have always been active in my religion and continue to do so on a weekly basis.

So, now that you've heard my story, here is my argument.

Children want to believe in Santa Claus. I admit there are children who are interested in logic and "truth," but most just want to be children, whether they know it or not (like my Jewish kids). I love the Miracle on 34th Street because I think it perfectly illustrates that none of us know the truth about Santa Claus. Little Susan knows the "truth" and yet, wants to believe differently. I think it's a great expression for her desire to have faith. In any religion, faith is our very first principle.

Parents express their concern for being caught in a "lie." What lie? That a fat man doesn't come down your chimney? Reindeer can't fly? Kids can and will work those out eventually on their own. Parents aren't thinking outside of the box. They are forgetting the real story. We didn't make up Santa Claus. It was the great St Nicholas of the 12th century that was an inspiration to us all in a tradition that we have found ways to embellish. The part that bothers me the most about this excuse is- when did parents become the ultimate source of truth?! If you are using this excuse you better NEVER be wrong. You will be wrong at some point. Parents are not perfect. Parents tell little white lies. Parents with hold information to avoid telling the WHOLE truth. Parents are human! I believe in being honest with your children and answering their questions (particularly about sex), but I think part of being a parent is judging when this approach is best. My parents do not confirm truth to me, the Holy Ghost does. The Holy Ghost will confirm to your children whether or not Jesus is real and they will not only have to take your word for it- they will have to learn it on their own.

I love the book, "I Believe in Santa Claus." It gives comparisons of Santa and Jesus. I highly encourage anyone to pick it up and read it. One reader said:

"The symbol of Santa Claus was never meant to replace the true meaning of Christmas. To the contrary, everything about St. Nicholas or Santa Claus, from his dress to his actions has always been meant to remind us of the birth and life of Christ. Finally, a children's book that does just that. Excellent!"

Patric St. Clair, Childrens Book Author

I think that having faith or a belief in Santa Claus is in many ways a prerequisite for having faith of any kind, including faith in Christ. I will never use the magic of Christmas and a belief in Santa Claus against my religion. I believe so strongly that they can go hand in hand.

In college, my roommate and I stayed up all night one night- in early September- telling each other about all the different ways we had come to love Christmas. We were filled with so much child like faith and excitement, and I knew she had also come from a home where they truly believe in Santa Claus. We made a paper chain that circled our bedroom a number of times, counting down to Christmas, because even though we were "grown-ups," we still knew how special it was.

I hope it is always special in my home. I hope that just like the young boy from The Polar Express, I will always hear the sound of the bell from Santa's sleigh.

Re-Do

Have you ever felt the desire to go back in time and re-live your life? I'll be honest, I never have.... until now.

I'm amazed at how fast the past 10 years have gone! I remember being a senior in high school and feeling like I'd never get out of that small town, feeling so suffocated by it all. I would have given anything to move forward just a bit faster. Now I find myself thinking, "Whoah, life. Slow down!"

High school doesn't appeal to me at all, but if I could go back to graduation day that would be grand. I feel like that's when I really became free. My life started after high school. It just became awesome in all the ways I hoped it would- I moved away from home, traveled to Europe, I went to AND graduated from college, married an amazing man, and had some great, great, great times along the way.

Although there are things I wish I'd have had the foresight to do differently, I mainly would want to just go back and do it all over again exactly the way it was the first time. I'm feeling 30 fast approaching and suddenly have this overwhelming fear and I just want to put the brakes on. Seventeen Again suddenly sounds appealing.

Birthdays

I love birthdays. Even more importantly, I love MY birthday. I love that there is one day dedicated entirely to me.

I am a December baby. Most people don't like it when they have a birthday so close to Christmas. I don't mind it. I think my birthday is just far enough away. Any closer and I probably wouldn't like it. I would especially hate it if my birthday were between Christmas and New Year's! Growing up my mom always did a good job of separating my birthday from Christmas. She would never wrap my presents in Christmas paper, and she would never combine gifts for the occasions. She did a great job at making it special for me. Sometimes she even does the 12 Days of Birthday. I think this is the reason I love it so much.

The funny thing about my birthday is that people will start mentioning it around Thanksgiving. It doesn't occur until a few weeks later. Then comes Christmas and since I didn't see all my relatives on my birthday, they are still giving me cards and gifts. This easily continues through New Year's. I think I must have the longest birthday ever! Seriously, Thanksgiving-New Year's? Not that I'm complaining. The longer and more often we celebrate, the better.

My Nephews

I LOVE my nephews! I have 2- one is almost 10 and one is 2.5 years. They both belong to my sister who is having a girl next year (we're all excited). They are fun, cute, entertaining, hilarious, thoughtful, sweet, energetic, rambunctious, and lovable. And guess what? So are a lot of other people's kids! The funny thing is how different I feel about these kids. It's amazing what kind of bond you can have with these children just because they are your family. Me and my husband adore them. We would do anything for them. We live to see them and spend time with them (we live in different states) . I just never expected it to feel so different, so deep, so meaningful, and so real. I love those boys to pieces!

"It's never too late to become the person you always wanted to be"

I saw this quote at work today. Lately I have been struggling with a lot of things in my personal life. I just hope I find this to be true.

For the Love of Being RICH and FAMOUS

Sometimes I think of how interesting we are as Americans. People are always talking about "The American Dream" and how you can have a better life here. Yet, as Americans, all that many of us want is to be rich and famous- ooh la la. It's so obvious why we do this because we are exposed to it so frequently through television, movies, tabloids, news, etc. It's so easy to find ourselves comparing our lives to the actual rich and famous, who are very few among us.

SO LET ME BE CLEAR:

I would HATE being famous.

Honestly, when I think about being famous it stresses me out. There are so many strings attached and I am a pretty private person, so I don't think I would cope very well. I am so glad that other people want to be famous, because I could never do it.

Can you imagine dealing with this everywhere you go?!

AGHHHHHHHH!

I would lose it for sure.

I understand the desire to be famous. Some people like attention, they like the spotlight, they like the praise. It must be nice to feel loved by so many people, most of whom you don't even know. Although, I would much prefer being the low key drummer behind the lead singer or the best friend of a famous actress. Being in a celebrity's family or close circle of friends would definitely have it's perks. I just prefer anonymity.

I could not sacrifice having a private life. I like to pump gas in my pajamas sometimes. Some days I don't want to do my hair. I would hate people acting like they know me just because they are a fan. My sympathies go out to celebrities who do these kinds of things. My heart does NOT go out to them for two things:

1- Shunning the responsibility of being a "role model." I think that if you are going to be a public figure of any kind, then you should be responsible for all your moral actions and try your very hardest to be a good person. Making BIG public mistakes and complaining that it's nobody's business is ridiculous in most cases- Bill Clinton, Tiger Woods, Britney Spears. If I am your fan or your voter, I have the right to know- that's the life you chose when you chose the spotlight. Take it or leave it.

2- Complaining publicly about price tags that come with celebrity- scrutiny, criticism, paparazzi, or how it's so lonely at the top. This isn't the first time we've heard it and you surely knew about these before you chose a life in the spotlight. I do admit that the paparazzi go overboard and that makes me sad, but there are PLENTY of celebrities who keep a fairly low profile. The ones who don't I think are generally asking for it. Besides, I'm sure it has just as many perks.

Now, as for being RICH?

Hell yes. Bring it on!

That is something I think I could handle;)

Shallow? Superficial? Worldly?

Perhaps.

I would just pray to have the heart to use my money wisely, but man it would make life so much easier!

I LOVE COOKIES!

I have a major sweet tooth, but my real weakness is for cookies. I LOVE cookies!!! Now, I don't claim to have many talents, but of the ones I do have, making the best chocolate chip cookies ever is one of them. I'm not lying. I used to be more modest about it, but I've had a lot of good feedback. Perhaps it's because my efforts were magnified in learning this skill in order to satisfy my love of these delectable treats. I'd say it's likely.

Anyway, the recipe is nothing fancy. Maybe it's the love I put into them that makes them so special. Here is the recipe if you want to give it a try:

Combine:

1 cup Crisco

1 cup sugar

3/4 cup of brown sugar

Mix in:

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

Then add:

2 cups flour

1 bag of chocolate chips (semi sweet is the standard, but I try to track down the Nestle Swirls with semi sweet and white chocolate- you can't beat it)

Bake at 375 degrees for 8 minutes. When you remove the baking sheet, drop it on the counter so the cookies will spread and let them cool on the baking sheet. Makes about 3 dozen.

ENJOY!! Cookies are amazing!

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

I HATE being cold! No, I LOATHE being cold!

Where did this passion stem from? I can't say for sure. I grew up outside of Salt Lake City and guess what? It gets cold there. Do I remember hating it as a child? Meh. Somewhat. I think my deep hatred for it really became noticable in college. And yes, I went to college were it got down right COLD.

Some people claim they don't mind it and the real crazies even claim to love it. One question for you people- WHY?

Cold sucks. Snow sucks. There's nothing worse than waking up and stepping on cold tiles, or even climbing out from underneath our warm comforter. Bundling up in 5 layers takes a lot of time and effort and if you are in and out of buildings all day your temperature becomes impossible to regulate. Scraping snow off your car is miserable. Waiting for the heater to kick in is awful and you know it only starts working just as you reach your destination. The non-feeling of my nose, ears, and fingers has brought tears to my eyes. By the time my toes are numb I just go ballistic!

Now I know all you snow lovers have a rebuttal. Don't you love to ski or snowboard? I did until I got arthritis (which also makes me stiff in the cold). But even before then, I only like to ski a few times a year. I was no season pass holder and it has to be a pretty nice day for me to even consider going. Don't you think that snow falling is so pretty? Falling, yes, if you can watch it from inside and never leave until June. Once it's fallen, it just turns to disgusting brown slush. Don't you love to cozy up to a fire, snuggle, and watch a movie? Sure. But I do that when it drops below 60. How can you think it feels like Christmas without snow? Because I've done it, that's how. Palm trees with lights are just as magical in my book. I actually thought I would miss Christmas without snow until I tried it. I am cured.

Let's forget snow for a minute. I just hate being cold. I can't even stand sitting in a breezy restaurant without a jacket. The source of the problem must be that I have lived in Florida and Arizona. Both are amazing. Does it get cold? Yes. But only long enough to be a novelty. My biggest dilemma is that now that my blood has thinned, it will never be the same. We recently moved from Phoenix to a city about 6 hours north and I am freezing here!

I can't imagine a scenario where living in a cold climate is an option. Thankfully, my hubby is a Californian and agrees 100%. He says that no job offer could pay him enough to move somewhere cold. Unfortunately, my family realizes that because of this, we will never live by them. So, I guess we will pick out a little island somewhere, throw away all of our sweaters and socks, and expect a lot of visitors from November-March.

The Giving of Thanks

The holidays are upon us. Once Halloween is on the horizon it all seems to go too fast!

My thoughts have turned to Thanksgiving this year. My husband and I have been married for 6 Thanksgiving holidays and in that time we have only had 2 traditional holiday experiences. Why? Well, let me be candid- I don't really dig it.

My mom's family and my husband's mother's family are regulars during Thanksgiving and both are enough to make the psych ward look normal most of the time. Not that we don't love them, my husband and I just agree that the closer we can stay to Christmas Card relatives, the better. Otherwise, our relaxing holidays turn to drama and that's just no good with us. Even before I was married my family started phasing out the traditional Thanksgiving dinner in exchange for dinner in a condo at Disney World, a cabin in Jackson Hole with just the 7 of us, or even Planet Hollywood in Vegas.

Sad? Perhaps. But not for us! We LOVE to celebrate that way! Forget the big meal for 20+ people and all the cooking and cleaning. When I was younger we had to hold Thanksgiving at one of our church buildings because my family is so dang large! I prefer the more intimate setting where I am not trying to force conversation with cousins I haven't seen in 6 years or have nothing in common with- we'll save all that for Christmas.

As for the hubby and I we have become the anti-traditionalists on Thanksgiving. Last year we had a steak dinner at a nice restaurant the night before and snacked all day on Thursday. Oh yeah, and we were all alone. The verdict? It was awesome. No stress. No drama.

This year however, we are having a traditional Thanksgiving. The great news is- it is with someone else's family! They are awesome and we are actually looking forward to it, so I hope it turns out great. At least we have eliminated the stress of traveling to one of our family's homes in exchange for something local, which is nice. Plus, all we have to bring is the stuffing and I think we can handle that.

Even with our unique ideas of how we like to enjoy our Thanksgivings (which we will no doubt continue), I am glad that there is a day focused on giving thanks. I have so much to be grateful for, even in hard times, and I hope I can remember that every other day of the year.

Getting Old

I have started feeling old this past year. I am 27. I get nauseous more often than I am used to. I can only ride a roller coaster once. I don't like a lot of loud noise. My high school pictures have started looking dated. I get dizzy. My depth perception seems to be changing. I don't love the idea of getting less than 9 hours of sleep no matter how fun the alternative. What is my deal?!

I was at a friend's home when her neighbor stopped by for some chit chat (someone I had never met before). She was maybe 5-7 years older than me with 2 children and somewhere in the discussion she mentioned her desire to get breast implants because after having kids, they just weren't sitting where they used to. I said, "Forget kids! I feel like my breasts are sagging and I haven't even had kids yet!" She just let out a half laugh and said, "You must be 27, then," with a smirk on her face.

Whoah. That came fast! At least I found comfort in the fact that other people go through this at about the same age. I asked about 8 girlfriends of mine (all older) when they started feeling this way and the general consensus was late 20's regardless of children and other variables. I always thought I was a little ahead of the aging game because I deal with 2 chronic illnesses for which I am heavily medicated. In other words, my body thinks it's about 55 (my doctor says 65). Mentally, however, I feel stuck at 22. The difference between the 2 can be extremely frustrating, but for the first time this year they have started to meet in the middle. Scary!

So, bring on the anti-aging skin care routine- even if I feel old, I am determined not to look it!

The New Kid

I remember in 2nd grade we got a new girl in our class half way through the year. I had been on vacation with my family and came late my first day back. Everyone was obsessed with this girl, whom we will call Jennifer. All the boys had a crush on her and all the girls were inviting her over to play at their house. Everyone wanted to sit by her in class. I was kind of taken back by it all, although she was adorable and seemed friendly. At recess, as a group of us were trying to get to know her, I asked another girl, "So how long had she been in our class? When was her first day?" Remember I had been out of town, and I felt way behind. The girl said, "Today."

WHAT?! This poor and very lucky girl! We were all smothering her! I later became friends with her and she was quite delightful. I knew her all through high school even. I just think it was so funny how we were all so intrigued by the unknown. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why did she move here in the middle of the year?

So, when I moved just before starting 6th grade I didn't know what to expect. Would people want to be my friend, too? Nope. Nada. I started my first day a week after everyone else and the whole year was torture. To this day, I remember it as one of my most lonely and difficult years. I was awkward and shy and spent the year basically alone. ALL alone.

I have since recovered, but my point is that I have never had a good experience being the new kid. I bring this up because my husband and I just moved to a new city less than 2 weeks ago. Our last home, in Phoenix, had finally felt comfortable after 3 years there. We had friends, we had lives, and we had a home that was now worth nothing near what we paid for it so we decided to get out. We were lucky and did get out, but it was a really hard decision. It's the first place in our marriage that felt like "home" and held so many memories.

Now that we've moved on, we are trying to adjust to our new surroundings. Today was our first week at church. I love/hate that day. Church has always helped us feel settled, no matter where we are and brings us to meet people quickly that we get to know and eventually love. No matter how many changes we encounter, church is a constant. The difference is the people at church and sometimes getting to know people and feel welcomed and accepted is REALLY HARD! It took me a long time to feel that way in Phoenix. I've tried to open up and put myself out there and hopefully make friends, but it can be so frustrating.

Nevertheless, we are moving forward. I just wish people were more inclined to treat us like Jennifer from my 2nd grade class.

Hello World!

I'm a married woman in my twenties just living life and trying to learn a few things along the way. I'm starting this blog to express my feelings and share some thoughts and ideas while remaining anonymous. I've learned that being "private" and being "anonymous" are very different. Whether people care what I write or even read it at all doesn't matter as much as having an outlet to share these things. Feel free to stop by and leave comments or just browse.

So, who am I? Well, I'm sure you'll learn somewhere along the way.