Spoiler alert! If you believe in Santa you better back the hell out of this post right now. It is *not* for you. The rest of you? Carry on.
A few years back, (or maybe it was last year, time has really gotten effed up for me) I did an I Believe in Santa post. It was fun, because one of my kiddlings did still believe at that time. We encouraged the idea that the “spirit of the season” (SOTS) is who Santa is. In other words, anyone could channel Santa. I remember the sideways glances from the girls. Bunny Wabit, my oldest, went over to the other side of the SOTS many years ago. She loved the idea of helping the kids who knew “the truth” understand this holiday tradition, to keep from spoiling it for others who still believed. But Little Bear? She just felt lied to.
She cornered me this year before the purchasing of the traditional gifts began, and asked me to fess up. I went over the story with her once again, and she looked me in the eye for the first time and said, “Oh, that’s what you meant.” It felt good to know I hadn’t been lying for years. That she understood now, and that she was to do the same for other non believers. And a little sad all at the same time.
Here I am at the beginning of a new year rolling over the season’s tradition with only a slight tremor of “Look at that, they grow up so fast.” And what do I want to do about it? I want to believe in something. Anything. So here we go.
What Jennifer believes in:
I believe that holidays are stressful. For this reason I prefer to stay at home and snuggle with my lovies. Only that doesn’t happen every year. So be it, I’ll take an every other year calm holiday if it’s what’s on the agenda.
I believe that exercise bikes should have a back on them. Have you tried to exercise on one of them fandangled ones that make you contort just-so to get your sweat on? Not happening.
I believe that kids need cranky moms. Even if it’s not their own. I am that mom who does lunch duty and warns the kids: “Are you seriously leaving that mess for me to pick up? Seriously?” And guess what. They clean it up. Who knew?
I believe that it really is possible to walk, not run, when you’re in a hurry. When you’re carrying a five gallon jug of water without a lid. All other times? Running feels necessary.
I believe that the color of hair you were born with is magnificent. And it looks smashing on you, and you and you. As for me? My soul is really a red-head. It just never made it to my roots. It made it to my brothers. That’s close enough, right?
I believe that big fluffery coats are the awesomest. Why I chose a white one I will never know. It was during that horrific ice storm turned power outage about seven years ago. I think maybe my brain got flash frozen causing me to make illogical choices. Shrug.
I believe that cats and dogs have healing powers. So does my massage gal. And I don’t have to clean up her – uh – bathroom either. I’m sticking with the massage gal for now. She doesn’t purr but she is still pretty amazing.
I believe that my bed has magical powers. It’s five feet high, and covered in more pillows than physically possible. It gives me a good nights sleep and it plays nice with my back. So I’m exaggerating, so what? Who sleeps “good” every night I ask you?
And lastly, I believe that helping others believe is a gift. One that I wasn’t able to pass on this season. Who knows, maybe I’ll have grandchildren some day and I can help them believe, too.