The Santa Question

One of the real joys in my week is the few minutes I get to spend in the observation room with the other moms from Micah's class. Over the past few months, we've all gotten to know each other and become fast friends.

Today we were talking about Christmas and holidays and traditions. One of the moms was talking about whether or not to encourage her daughter's belief in Santa. A couple moms said they weren't and a couple said they were. This precluded a conversation about what happens when your kids finds out that you are Santa and so on.

Personally, I never really intended to encourage a belief in Santa, instead wanting to focus on Christ and the celebration of his birth. I didn't have a problem with people who do, it just wasn't my thing.

I didn't get that choice though. As happens with any older child adoption, you child has their own culture and beliefs when they join your family.

In our case, we had a very fervent belief in Santa, Rudolph and all his reindeer. No biggie...we adjusted. We get pictures taken yearly with the big man, bake him cookies, write him letters and even feed his reindeer.

But what struck me in all of this was my reaction to the conversation. At one point, I point, I just said "Oh, we didn't have a choice. Jason came that way."

Later, when relaying the story to Andy while we sorted through our Chirstmas shopping, it struck me as hysterically funny.

Not because of Santa or the conversation or anything like that.

But I was suddenly struck with an image of my son at age 4, in a brightly colored box with a cellophane front, labeled clearly...

JASON

An adorable 4yo boy with blue eyes, sandy brown hair and glasses.

He comes complete with a bright smile, a limited vocabulary and a belief in Santa!

Twisted, I know. But hey, it's who I am. And once my mind started rolling, I pictured Hannah being born with a tattoo requiring pink clothes and Micah coming with a recommendation for a protection plan due to ER trips.