I went away for 4 days, to Connecticut/Maine/Connecticut to visit my brother/go to a wedding of a dear friend. It was wonderful and strange to be travelling alone. I got a lot of guff for leaving the kids behind, but I needed 4 days of not being a mom to put my head back on straight.
And then tonight, further evidence of Adrian's precociousness:
AD: Mom, is Santa real?
ME: oh god oh god think quick, don't ruin the magic yet, he'll be that kid on the playground, what am I going to--What do you think?
AD: I think he's imaginary.
ME: he can NOT have figured this out already, he's only 4 for crying out loud What does that mean?
AD: That he's like a dream.
ME: AHA! But he brings real presents.
AD: Sometimes dreams really do come true, Mom.
ME: (trying not to laugh) I guess so buddy.
Not really a lie, not really the truth. Is Santa real? I don't know. I know I perpetuate the myth because I like the idea of a jolly guy in a red suit who hands out toys to the good kids and coal to the bad ones. I'm fairly certain that's the first little step in teaching our kids the ideal of Justice. Plus it comes with the added puzzler of how does he see me all the time? And not just me, but every kid, all over the world?
So it's a lesson on justice and espionage. And who doesn't want that for Christmas?