I've contributed to the Orlando Sentinel's Moms at Work blog since 2010. The blog is changing content management systems and my old posts will no longer be available to the public, so I'm reposting them here, in the order that they were originally posted.
Enjoy.
Nov. 10, 2010
I've decided to take my daughter to have her picture taken with Santa Claus when he arrives at area malls.
This doesn't sound like much, but for me, this is a big decision.
I didn't grow up with Santa Claus. Although my holidays were always bountiful, my parents thought bringing him into my life would limit my appreciation for the hard work that went into putting those gifts and goodies under the tree. The Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy didn't visit my house, either. It helped that I was a preternaturally mature kid, but my parents' logic made complete sense to me. As a working mom now, it still makes sense (I want to be appreciated for the hours I worked to buy that toy/sweater/whatever! Waaah!).
My husband, though, definitely had Santa in his life. Even now, he gets a wistful look in his eye and his deep voice softens when he reminisces about the Christmas mornings of his youth or uses phrases like "the wonder and awe of childhood" or "kids should get to be kids."
I'm a sucker for his wistful looks. Oh, and for arguments about preserving the wonder of childhood. Somewhere in there may also have come comments from my daughter's grandparents -- even my parents! -- and various great-aunts, great-uncles and cousins about wanting a picture of her with Jolly Old St. Nick.
So I'm dipping my toe in the Santa Claus pool this year. We will get The Picture. I'm still ambivalent about whether she'll grow up with Santa Claus, though. Luckily, she's still young enough that she won't remember this holiday season, and if I don't like it, I won't have to mention it again and can forget it ever happened.
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