The Innocence of Age

(Me at age 2)

Now that I am an adult, I find myself remembering back to my childhood and thinking, “Gosh, things were simpler then.” Life was fun filled and stress free. At no time in the year is this more apparent to me than at Christmas time. One of the Christmases that I remember best is the year that Santa gave me a Godzilla (I was a bit of a tomboy, to say the least). I woke up around 3 o’clock in the morning, while everyone else was fast asleep, and- instead of waking my brother and sisters like I had promised I would if I was the first to wake up- I rushed to the living room to see what Santa had left me. There, beside my stocking, stood a huge, scaly, black & green Godzilla in a fearsomely menacing pose. Since the house was still quiet and dark I decided to go back to bed. I took my Godzilla with me and cuddled with him under my warm bed sheets waiting for the rest of the household to stir. And, let me tell you, cuddling a foot tall lizard monster with pointy spikes on his back is no simple feat. Physical discomfort aside, I can remember the excitement that filled my little body from head to toe because I’d gotten precisely what I asked for from Santa. But what I don’t remember thinking, because it never even crossed my mind, was how much work my parents had gone to and how much they’d given up to get me that Godzilla toy.

We call this the innocence of youth. If we were being brutally honest we would call this naivety or, flat out, ignorance. The complicated problems of the chaotic world are nothing to a child. Children are either guarded from or are completely incapable of seeing the ugly side of life.

The kids and I spent the better half of today in Argyle, New York. After reading my recent post about our terrible experience with Santa, a friend of ours invited us to visit Santa and his reindeer at the firehouse in Argle, where we could take as many pictures as we wanted completely free of charge.

(Waiting in line to see Santa)

We arrived at a little past noon and took our place in line, which wrapped three-quarters of the way around the room. The kids were excited! Jamie was enjoying the glittering garland that hung above the windows and kept scampering back to play with it whenever I took my eyes off him. Josie was patiently waiting her turn and you could practically see her rehearsing in her mind what she would say to Santa. Johnny was happy and bouncy, kicking his little legs and smiling at whomever would glance his way. Meanwhile, I was begrudging that we had gotten there a little late and had to wait in such a long line. I was complaining to myself about how much my back hurt from holding a 35 lbs Jamie on my hip and I was wondering if anyone else noticed that my chest was drenched with milk because of the horrifying combination of a misaligned nursing pad and an unexpected letdown an hour earlier.

But before too long we reached the end of the line and Santa was within sight. The first thing I noticed was that Santa was sitting mere feet away from the men’s bathroom door. I also wondered to myself, “Whoose bright idea was it to stack three gigantic cardboard boxes, with ‘Oriental Trading Company’ stamped on the side in great big black letters, directly behind Santa’s chair, in full view and camera angle?” I laughed at the thin paper fireplace backdrop that was hung on the wall because I could still see the creases from where it was folded during storage. But the kids didn’t notice any of these things.

Josie walked right up to Santa with a cute little girlish smile. Sitting in his lap, she had an adorable conversation with him about how she wanted a guinea pig for Christmas and that she was going to take good care of him and feed him and clean his cage and everything. (Several times during this conversation Santa glanced in my direction as if to ask if I intended to actually buy her a guinea pig so that he could give her an honest answer as to whether or not she would be getting one on Christmas morning. I just smiled and kept snapping pictures).

Jamie didn’t care to visit Santa but he did find great pleasure in the large plastic decorative candy cane that he found taped to the line stanchion, probably because he thought it was real candy. Johnny was a good sport as well and posed for some pictures of his first visit with Santa Claus.

The whole encounter lasted only a few minutes and in those minutes all the ugliness in the room melted away and I felt only joy; the joy that my kids were feeling.

Parenthood is such a blessing for thousands of reasons. But the reason that I am most thankful for tonight is that it can make a weary mom forget about her milk saturated shirt and rediscover the magic of Christmas.