Sorry Santa! I Want My Daughter To Know That The Good Gifts Are From Me
For the past six months, my daughter has been asking for a Barbie Mansion. It’s been at the top of her mind on almost every weekly trip to the grocery store. Any time she catches a commercial with that birght pink, plasti abode, I’m resigned to hearing her pleas for the next three hours. She wants that house, guys! She wants a house that’s big enough for her bastion of Barbies to play in comfortably. For whatever reason, our little Polly Pocket house, that’s not big enough for the Barbies to stand in, simply isn’t cutting it. Screw teeth, all this girl wants for Christmas is a Barbie Dreamhouse!
So after months of telling my adorable little girl to wait for Christmas, after about 50 trips to the store where her eyes lit up as she asked, “Momma, can I get my Barbie house today,” I’m finally ready to fork out $150 for my little girl’s dream toy. She’s been good, and not entirely patient, but she’s earned this special treat, which is a little more expensive than we normally spend on rewards for good behavior. After making her wait for months, can I really pass along the credit for getting this toy to Santa Claus?
I know, I know. I’m a terrible person. Christmas isn’t about the material gifts. We don’t show our love based on the size of the present. I promise, I really know this. I believe this.
But this present seems like so much more than a present. It’s a culmination of months of bartering and promises. This tacky pink house represents a whole line of negotiations between my adorable little girl and my household rules.
See, my intelligent little girl has learned all about the incentive system and she’s been using employing it to get her heart’s desire. At three years old, she knows how and when to feed our two black labs. She runs to help before I even remember that the boys haven’t had breakfast, and gives me a knowing look as she says, “I a good helper Momma.” Right now, she’s proving to me that she’s a “big girl” by always putting on her own coat,, buckling her own seat belt and cleaning up the toys in her room without prompting or requests. And if you think that this is all because I’m somehow amazing and I’ve trained the perfect daughter, you’re wrong. (And funny…) My daughter has her eye on the prize. After all that hard work, I want her to know that I’m going to reward her. [tagbox tag=”Christmas”]
Gifts from Santa are wonderful and special. Now that I have my own daughter, I’m realizing just how much gratitude my parents gave up to create the Christmas magic for us. Thousands of dollars spent on gifts with Santa’s name on the tag. I don’t think my mom regrets that at all. But I wonder if she haggled in her head over which gifts would be from the most awesome guy on the North Pole, and which gifts would come from her.
I’m not trying to steal any of the Big Man’s thunder. I plan on going straight down my daughter’s Christmas list and checking off each specific request. (Although why she needed a stuffed cheetah, I have no idea! Lions and tigers are all over the place. A spotted cheetah? I don’t want to pay shipping on a stuffed animal! Alright I’m done now.) But for that extra special gift, the one she’s been begging for all year, I want my little girl to know that I’ve been listening. I’ve been paying attention as she works extra hard to earn that big gift. And I want her to know that I’m going to reward all that good behavior with the extra special present she’s been waiting for.
I’m really sorry to say it, but when it comes to best present of the year, Game On Santa.