Chillin' with the Claus's

Tonight was the night Abby and Isaac have been looking forward to for weeks now, their first chance of the season to see The Big Guy himself and inform him of what they would like for Christmas. It was our ward Christmas party and Ben and I are on the committee to help plan the event. I began to get a bit stressed yesterday when it dawned on me that I needed to shop for last minute ingredients, set up a hot chocolate buffet, make enough chicken to feed 50, prepare 4 enormous pots full of rice, make enough gravy to serve 180, have my kids dressed, happy and ready and get there early enough to help with the decorating so the party could start promptly at 6:00. I normally don't get home from school until 5:30 - PROBLEM.

So, I decided to play hookey from work and spend the day checking off things from my to do list that have been piling up for the past few weeks. I looked forward to a nice, productive day at home with my kids. The morning started off great. I woke up early and by 10:00 I had 4 loads of laundry washed and neatly folded on the couch downstairs, I'd swept and mopped all of the upstairs floors, I'd vacuumed the rugs, washed the linens, made the beds, organized the toys and even cleaned the bathroom. I was feeling great and ready to tackle the daunting list of errands when I decided I needed to play a bit. We invited some friends over for lunch and I found myself absorbed in a great conversation.

Our conversation kept being interrupted, however by my naughty little boy who must have forgotten that Santa was watching.
First interruption:
Me: "Where's Isaac? It's a little too quiet around here."
Aurelie: "I'll go find him."
****Pause as she walks down the hall****
Aurelie (with a bemused sound to her voice): "Oh, Isaac! What are you doing?"

I walk into Abby's room to discover that my boy had raided my newly re-stocked supply of yummy Orbit gum, and had chewed up an entire package only to spit each piece out in a trail on the rug. Grrrrrr....

Second Interruption:
This time there were squeals of delight coming from the freshly cleaned bathroom (where Aurelie and I had just been admiring my brand new bath mat). Again, Aurelie was the first on the scene.
Aurelie: "Uh, Rachel? I'm not sure you're going to like this." (I'm still kicking myself for not taking a picture of what she had discovered - but I was too upset and acted on impulse.) Isaac had climbed up onto the sink to retrieve the bottle of Comet I had just opened and had dumped the ENTIRE thing out all over the bathroom. We're talking into the toilet, all over the freshly cleaned garbage can, sprayed up on the walls, ALL OVER MY NEW RUG, and was in the process of shaking it out over the stairs to see what else he could get out when she grabbed him. GRRRRRR......

Forty-five minutes later, we had finally vacuumed up the last of the fine, bleachy powder and given Isaac the time out of his life, I thought it was over. Nope - Isaac headed straight downstairs where he promptly began diving into the neat stacks of folded laundry and throwing it all over the basement.

So much for the quiet day at home. By the time I got everything done and Santa arrived at the party, I was about ready to tattle on the boy myself.

But then Santa and Mrs. Claus arrived and I melted. They were so jolly and sparkly and nice that the magic rubbed off and all of the kids were enthralled. Abby kept saying, "Mommy, is that the REAL Santa? Did he park his sleigh at the airport? How come he looks different than the books? Does he have a candy cane for me?" She had a million questions, but when it came down to actually getting within 50 feet of the man, she stiffened up and buried her head into my shoulder and refused to look up.
I finally convinced her to sit on the stage with the other kids and just get close to him. She made me pinky-swear that I wouldn't make her look at him. Here we are just waiting...

We watched as kid after kid after kid sat on Santa's lap without being harmed, or maimed, or emotionally damaged in any way. Still, she wouldn't budge.

She was not without a plan, however. She refused to sit on Santa's lap herself, but then she faced a dilemma - how would Santa know what she wanted for Christmas? As she sat there clinging onto me for dear life, she said, "Mommy, I want Isaac to give Santa a note from me." She pulled out her pocket a wrinkled, wadded up piece of paper that I recognized as her "wish list" that has been on our fridge for the past few weeks. We handed it to Isaac and the delivery boy pulled through. Isaac was not afraid of Mr. C. at all. When it was his turn, he greeted the jolly fellow with an ENORMOUS hug and leaped into his lap. After a brief exchange with Santa, Isaac pulled out the note.Santa opened it up and read it. Only then did Ben and I recall that a few weeks ago Abby was naughty for her babysitter and Ben had written a note on her wish list to let Santa know. Well, the big guy read it. He read the list out loud to Abby and talked to her in detail about which Tinkerbell video game she wanted, and where she would like her gifts deposited on Christmas Eve. She responded by squeezing me even tighter and burying her face even further into my shoulder. Before he said goodbye to her, he said, "Ho Ho Ho, just be sure to be nicer to your babysitter next time." Abby went slack in my arms. The look on her face was classic - surprise, mixed with awe, enlightenment, shock - like she couldn't believe he knew about that! Ben and I reassured her that Santa was watching... always watching.

At the end of the evening, the kids all sang carols on the stage,

and we said farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Claus.

I'm just wondering why Santa didn't say anything to Isaac about the gum, and the bleach, and the laundry...