All I want for santamas

SO.
Dean's daycare provider asked what holiday we celebrate so that she could make sure that they discuss each child's holiday traditions. Aaah. That's sweet.
So?

"We celebrate Santa" I answered easily.

Oh.

So santa came to our house. He brought the children a dollhouse and a workbench (big unwrapped gifts) and many many many more wrapped presents of varying types and enjoyment.

Today when I dropped the kids off at school, the teachers asked Maya what Santa brought her for Christmas. Simple question. Her answer?
"He didn't bring me a train table..."

oh.

"he didn't bring me a scooter either."

Well then.

The teachers gamely tried to find out what he DID bring.

"I don't know..." was her quiet answer as she wandered off to play.

I have to tell you that Santa did in fact bring her a train table. BUT. Santa had not considered how very small our house is. And how very big a train table is...

Santa may have to get over it though.

Maybe the kids will discover the present from Santa that he didn't leave out for them this weekend. Maybe they won't.

What did Santa leave for me?

an iphone!

Not on my list but totally fun!

Thanks santa.

The Bigger they are....

Here is the scene:

Sunday morning. 6:15am! That's right - 6:15am!
I hear "daddy, daddy, daddy" coming from my daughter's room.

daddy is sleeping.

daddy got up at 6:15am on Saturday morning with this same daughter.

so...

I (shiver)get out of our nice warm bed(shiver), pull on some pants(shiver). And stumble across our clothes strewn floor toward the door.

We live on the third floor of a very old home. Our stairwell is small and old.
And wooden. And apparently, very slippery.

I made it down the straight part okay. But. then. It curves.
Well somehow I ended up in our bathroom (which is to the right of the end of our stairs). To be more exact I landed on the floor of our bathroom. With my right foot in my son's potty and my left leg in the hallway.

The sound of me tumbling, cursing and crashing did not bring my husband running.

The very sad and pathetic whimper that I heard and apparently produced, is what did it.

I have a black and blue bruise on my ahem "hip" that I feel when I move, well, anything really. And I am pretty sure my little toe has some permanent damage.

Also this little episode confirms something I have been suspecting for a while now.

I am old.

And I do not just 'rebound' from things of this nature. I have been eating advil like candy and cursing myself for a fool. A big, fat, very old, fool.

And I have to say ouch.

ouch ouch ouch.

Alright I'm done.

Because I made it for you...

So I find that I am seizing opportunities lately to try and instill the values and beliefs that I feel are important. I am working on concepts with my little girl. The challenge is of course trying to speak in ways that she understands about things she has no real idea about...yet. So here is the latest installment.

She offers me her drawing.

"Is it pretty mommy?"

I look at it. And really...it isn't.

Just a lot of different squiggles. BUT.

"do you think it's pretty?" I ask her with a smile.

"what?" is her very confused reply.

So I explain in my "wise mommy" way that my opinion doesn't matter. That what she draws and makes needs only be pretty to her. "That is the great thing about art" I assure her. "only what you think matters because you made it."

And she looks at me with her head tilted. and says...

"But I made it for you."

Well. Then.

"It is beautiful. Thank you sweetheart."

And I wasn't lying. It was beautiful.