It’s Wednesday, so T and the Bean went to their Tiny Talk class this morning. And Santa turned up! With an Elf! And the Bean, who has not really cottoned on to the whole Santa thing, freaked out and cried. She’s recovered from the trauma– she is looking at the Christmas book she was given in her crib right now, while T. gets the Christmas tree settled in a bucket in the garden (true to family tradition, we don’t put the tree up until Christmas Eve).
While we don’t have photographic evidence of her Father Christmas-induced panic attack, the Chicago Tribune regularly runs a “Scared of Santa” photo gallery series at this time of year, which you can look through here. So many red-faced tots, wailing. So many weary-eyed Santa’s helpers. Why do we do this to ourselves?
I’m not Grinching out, however. Shopping for toys for the kid is so much more satisfying than I ever imagined it would be. And I can’t wait to see her reaction to the tree this year: she is already completely fascinated by the Advent calendar Grandmomma sent us. Several times a day she spots it and flaps her arms excitedly.
“Oh gots,” she says, which is Beanish for “I want that, please.”
Since there are pins involved, we just pick her up and let her look at it more closely. Yesterday she launched into one of her impressive monologues about it, in which she used a new word repeatedly: “heart”. And yes, there is a heart ornament on the advent calendar. I’m guessing she learned that word from her second-favorite film. There’s a review of that, and her new number one, coming.
Meanwhile, I am off to try to find a local copy of Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas. Everything on Amazon seems to take 1-2 weeks to deliver.