Diana Rowland
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Santa

Shockingly enough, Anna slept until 7:30 in the morning. I'm still stunned that the child slept 14 hours. Don't get me wrong--I'm not complaining.
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This morning, after Anna's dose of milk and "Wiggles", she grabbed my hand and dragged me into the dining room, whereupon she plopped down onto her stomach to peer under the christmas tree. A few seconds later she got up again, a pitfully forlorn expression on her face. I had to explain to her then that she had to tell Santa what she wanted for christmas, and then had to wait for Santa to come and bring the toys. See, I want her to believe in Santa, at least for a few years. I don't ever recall really believing in Santa. It's not that my parents ever actively disabused me of the notion that Santa Claus was real, but at the same time they never really tried to make me believe that there was a fat guy who lived at the north pole and delivered toys in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. But I want her to believe. I want her to experience--even briefly--that pure acceptance that there is magic and wonder and incredible stuff in the world. I'm hoping that when she gets older and has to give up that belief, that maybe that acceptance of wonder and magic and special will linger, even though she will have to accept that there is no fat guy at the north pole who rides a sleigh. We took her to see Santa today, i.e. we took her to get her picture taken with the mall Santa. It was worth paying $25 for one 5x7 and 4 wallet sized pictures, though, because this is one of those mall Santas that really is a big white-bearded guy, not just some teenager in a fake white beard. I was expecting Anna to freak out at being put on the lap of a total stranger, but she didn't. She just looked at him in awe and wonder and sat quietly with a small smile on her face as the picture was taken. After the picture Santa asked her what she wanted for Christmas. She got a coy smile on her face, looked at me, then looked back at Santa and said, "A PUPPY!" A puppy. Then again, her belief in Santa may not last past this christmas morning.


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