In the pockets of our Santa, there are little slips of paper with something fun to to each day. Things like, "Make Christmas cookies" and "Make a paper chain" are mixed with more exciting things like, "Take a trip to Salt Lake City to see the Christmas lights" and "Go to the church Christmas party!" Carefully typed, cut into strips and folded, these little activities fill the pockets across Santa's belly and my kids stare at them, wondering what fun surprise they'll unfold tomorrow.
This morning, Landon ran straight to the calendar and said, "Mom! It's the three day!" (Today is December 3rd.) He knows that after he gets home from daycare and does his chores, he gets to choose the paper of the day. All day, I know that he dreams about what he's going to get to do. He can't wait to find out what the "actibity" as he calls it, will be.
On the way to daycare this morning, Landon said to me, "Mommy, I love being a kid. I don't ever want to grow up because kids get to pick out of the calendar. I want to stay a boy like Peter Pan." I laughed and told him that if he wanted to stay four years old forever, that would be fine with me.
The concept has been mulling around in my mind today since he said that, though. Somehow, my small four year old boy is aware enough to think that only kids do "fun things", and that if he grows up, all the fun will go away.
I can't help but wonder, am I too detached, too busy, too frazzled to just stop and have fun? With my culmination of being a student, a mother, a wife, working (more than) full time...am I telling my kids that when you grow up, life isn't fun anymore?
This December, as we pull little slips of magic from Santa's pockets, I'm going to make a conscious effort to have a freaking blast. My babies are growing. They're aware. They're noticing. They're absorbing. I guess it's my job to make sure all of that happens the right way. Apparently, that's what parenting is.