Each year I watch my kids start months in advance prepping and preparing their Christmas lists. For Hudson and Sophia we mostly translate, though this year Sophia can write her own list for the first time. The lists always have pictures that go along with them, just in case Santa gets confused and needs some visual aid. For Isabelle, the list is long and extensive and complex above one's wildest imagination. Oh, and expensive. Did I mention expensive?
Fortunately, as least as far as I know, Isabelle still believes in Santa...and it literally brings tears to my eyes that she does. Some might say it's naive, that she's too old to believe in such a thing, but I adore that she believes, and that she encourages her brother and sister to be good so Santa will come. I want her to believe for as long as possible. I see no reason to burst the bubble and tell her that Santa, in the way she knows him, does not exist. I accept that the day will come, and every season I pray "please don't let it be this year," but I accept it's coming. And when it does, we'll keep the magic alive for Hudson and Sophia as long as possible and she'll find the joy in being excited for them like we are right now. But when it's gone there's no getting it back, so I'm enjoying it now.
I remember making my Christmas list growing up. The anticipation, the hope that when you wrote something down on that piece of paper that maybe, just maybe, you'd find it under the tree on Christmas morning. I wish I could give my kids the world. I wish I could give Isabelle every single item on her 50 item (no joke) Christmas list. I wish I could give Sophia all the American Girl dolls that she wants, or Hudson every Lego set on the Lego aisle. Alas I cannot, but I still encourage them to write, encourage them to wish, and encourage them to believe.
Next update...my Christmas list. :)
