Santa Claus

Anderson, for two years I have been waiting for you to finally "get" Santa Claus, and, while this year you may still not totally grasp the concept, you certainly have embraced it. Everyday you talk about Santa and every time we hear a bell, be it from the school, the church, or just a random car horn, you yell out, "it's Santa, mommy!".

This past weekend marked our first official visit to Santa. The first year you were just too little and, well, I just didn't want to give you over to him (what were you going to say to him, anyway?). Last year we did a trial run on a weekday when there was nobody in line. You lasted about a second and a half and would not get within five feet of Saint Nick. We didn't force the issue. This year, however, was your year. You patiently anxiously waited your turn and when you got in Santa's house you could not have been happier (though the giant bucket of candy canes didn't hurt either). You posed for your picture and even told Santa that you wanted an airplane (what? where did that come from? all you've talked about are trucks!). A few more laps on the choo choo and off we went. Truly a more successful experience than I had anticipated. Now, about that airplane...