Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The unintended consequences of daycare

Last Christmas the only thing Chou really seemed wowed by was the crinkle of the wrapping paper and the tags on her presents.

This year we're making a bigger effort - we stream classic Christmas tunes on the iPod dock and have actually purchased gifts (for the first time in a very long time - all but a few are hand made, repurposed or antique bought right here in town). We went so far as to plan for a Christmas tree. We bought a stand, lights and a few ornaments and I've strung popcorn for Mother Nature's favorite garland.

Anyone notice what's missing out of that description? Um, yes. A tree.

Unlike any other city we've lived in, Regina is rather short on Christmas tree lots. The only thing I could find was a $40 gigantic tree when what we want is a sickly, cheap Charlie Brown tree.

Chou is undeterred by our lack of tree. Yesterday she came home and while dancing in the living room used the tub of ornaments as a drum exclaiming "Ho, Ho, Ho!"

Ho, Ho, Ho?

What we haven't even mentioned in our newly-found Christmasness is Santa. Let alone that he says Ho, Ho, Ho. We're still undecided as to how we handle the Santa talk. Are we a Santa house? We weren't in our house and I never felt left out of the Christmas loop. Which brings us to how the heck does Chou know?

The answer: daycare.

After my initial surprise, I've decided I'm OK with it. We're not religious, we're simply not really into the Santa side of the holiday. So if daycare wants to teach her about the fat elf, so be it.

Why am I so OK with it? Daycare was also first to put her in a big girl bed, is totally keen with letting my less than 2-year old practice sitting on the potty and - here's the kicker - picks her up and drops her off when it's colder than -20 so I don't have to walk, which is nearly every day right now. Yes, really.

Heck, they can teach her to LOVE Santa, if these are the trade offs.

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