Rants, musings, vents and social commentary various. Have a cuppa as you peruse.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The bloody Santa Myth.
Seeing red kind of furious, unable to console my son who hysterical at the thought of a strange man magically coming into our house while he sleeps, despite locked doors.
Kids at my son's class have all been asking the big "Is Santa real?" question.
Much to my dismay, these little people, developing their independent thought, are being lied to by their parents, continually insisting that Santa is real. When real, well thought out questions are asked, the kids are told if they don't believe in Santa, then they won't get presents. "If you believe in Santa, then Santa is real" What the hell are we setting our kids up for in life?
I have never lied to my kids about this. I've been 100% truthful but always asked them to play along if children in their social circles believe in Santa as I really don't want them to incur the wrath of parents who enjoy lying to their kids; however the overwhelming force of other people lying to their own children makes it impossible for my son to be peaceful and calm tonight.
I'm fine with playing a game but when you insist to your prep-aged child that Santa is real, despite their own misgivings, which they then force upon other children in fear of not getting presents on Christmas morning, I wonder if you think about the damage you're doing, not only to your own relationship with you kids when they find out you've been lying to them, but to their sense of self and knowing their own mind. When they ask you flat out "Mummy, this does not makes sense, is it real?"
I really don't mind playing along with the Santa Myth, but once that question is asked, it's game over.
My eldest meanwhile, had fun setting cookies and carrots out for Santa and his reindeer, know it is make-believe and the truth behind the mythology. Not once has she ruined the lie for other kids, and is having a great time. Happy medium.
/end Rant
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Dear Diary
For just the love and acceptance you gave, but not excluding: your terrible Dad jokes, reddit addiction, bad taste in hair cuts and devotion to rockmelon, I will always love you my friend, for who you are. I miss you every single day. Stay Classy.
Friday, December 6, 2013
I hate this time of year.
Sorry, but I do.
Why, at Christmas, does my family, immediate or extended think they can dictate my time? Why can I not want my kids to myself for a week before I don't see them for a fortnight, when they're not exhausted from a full school week...
Why, just because it's Christmas, am I selfish for not wanting to rush. For not wanting to watch happy families happen around us and feel bad for us because we are different?
Is it like grief? Where we expect the bereaved to feel better with gift baskets and flowers... A friend who lost her son was exhaustedly taken aback when a circle of her friends insisted she came out to lunch so they could 'treat' her and give her the knick knacks they had bought for her.
Do people think I'll top myself if I spend a Christmas on my own terms? Poor single person. Can't be left alone, let's put then in the middle of lots of families so they feel less alone.
Ok I've reached rant point.
I need a holiday, alone. Anyone want to come? ;)