True story from earlier tonight:
She asked the oldest girl, “What do you want from Santa this year?” The oldest girl replied, “Nothing really, I’m just going to see what he brings me.” The second girl overhead the conversation and offered her Christmas wish, “I want a diary so I can write things.” The lady was surprised and asked, “Is that all?” They both shrugged and gave a look that said, “Pretty much.”
My kids are focusing on their zen this year. Good for them. I have really good girls and I know this. They are the best.
Meanwhile Supermom and I spent our time worrying if our efforts were enough. Did we spend the same on each child? Did we meet their every desire? Will these pictures look like we were adequate parents on Facebook?
To hear my kids don’t really have desire, beyond enjoying the magic of Christmas, makes me realize that the unmet desire is from me. I want them to be overwhelmed and surprised and over-the-moon with Christmas gifts. I want them to be awestruck. This day is the parenting Black Friday. The morning where we team with Santa and hope to atone for a year of being mediocre parents. We heap our shopping sacrifices at the evergreen altar and hope the gods smile upon us.
It’s 12:08 and we pulled it off again. In the morning the gods will rise and judge our tithe. I hope this shit works. I could use some brownie points in the parenting department. I feel empty and these kids love me from the outside in, trying to fill me up again. They are doing a good job but realizing who actually has the physical resource of “love” is tough for a man to swallow. I’m supposed to be a well-spring but I haven’t been lately.
Merry Christmas. If you are up past midnight and reading random blogs, this post is for you. You’re welcome.
-Underdaddy to the rescue.