Santa

“Mum, how old is Santa?” asked Master Eight pensively.
“Gosh, I don’t know. Pretty old I think.”
“So when Santa was a kid, who was his Santa?” he continued.
“Maybe in the olden days there was no Santa,” Master Six piped up saving me.
“Maybe he went with his dad and learned in the sleigh,” Miss Six chimed in.
Master Eight: “You know how Santa got here so quickly last year, I think it was because there were lots of naughty boys and girls.”
“How do you mean?”
“You know, he got to our place early, I think it was because he didn’t have many other places to go to.”
“Maybe. When I was a little girl I swear I saw the buckle of his belt shining in my room.”
“When I was a little boy I saw his beard,” added Master Eight.
“Really?”
“Yeah remember? It got stuck on the fire place.”
Oh yeah, that’s right. Silly Santa snagged his beard as he was entering last year.
“And his boot prints!”
So he did. He left snowy boot prints on our doorstep.
“Does Santa live up in the sky?” asked Miss Six.
“Yep,” answered her twin knowingly.
“No, he lives in the North Pole,” said older brother.
“Mum I don’t like those videos you play us when Santa opens up the book,” Master Six said.
“Why not?”
“Because at the end it gets real scary when he decides if you’ve been good or bad.”
“Yeah it’s real scary because we don’t know if we’re going to get the red light or the green,” added his sister.
That reminded me.
By the time the kids returned home from school they each had a personalised Santa message waiting for them on the computer.
As always, they squirmed with delight when Santa addressed them by name and they saw their own photo in his book. Santa then took them on a magical tour through to the barn to meet his reindeer before returning to his big wooden desk where he re-opened the book with all the information inside about the children. And then the build-up to the naughty or nice conclusion began.
The kids waited wide-eyed with anticipation as the elves went through a process to reach the verdict and then clapped with joy when the green light appeared.
However, Master Eight this year didn’t quite make it onto the ‘nice’ list and the devastation from all was absolute.
Apparently he needed to try harder to be nicer to his siblings.
But the disappointment that followed the orange light (not quite naughty or nice) was worth it for he immediately changed his tune and has become a different kid. (A subsequent message awaited him several days later where he got the green light.)
Based on the questions above, it may well be the last year this Santa approach works but, for now, peace and harmony have been restored.

# To make your own free personalised video from Santa, go to: www.portablenorthpole.com

 

 

 

Mangroves

When I found myself nominated to parent help on a school trip I have to admit, I was not too overjoyed.
When I found out it was to go look at mangroves I was even less enthused.
However, the event fell on my day off and, because I’d recently been on a class trip with the twins, Master Eight saw no reason why I shouldn’t go on his.
But I did.
Besides the fact that fair is fair, of course, and we were long overdue some special time together.
Let me just say that, although ‘day off’ conjures up images of sleeping in, meeting up with friends for coffee and general lounging around, it is anything but. My day off is consumed with all those mundane things that, before I returned to work, used to be spread out over the week – house work, gardening, lawns, groceries, town errands, exercise, Christmas shopping, amongst before and after school duties.
And I learnt from the early baby days of everyone saying that housework can wait that it doesn’t. It just accrues until when you finally take to it with the vacuum cleaner, it clogs up.
So these days off are rather precious but when a school activity falls on this day, it is also a novelty to be able to attend when most working parents can’t.
But mangroves?
A week or two before we were disappointed I missed the Limestone Island trip Master Eight went on. The night before we’d been reading Famous Five together. The five had returned to Kirren Island and rediscovered the ruins of the old castle.
He was quite impressed to discover our local island has its own ruins and even a dungeon and I was too when he relayed the day’s adventures back to me.
I knew how much it would mean to Master Eight if I went along on this outing so I rearranged my week, cramming all the Wednesday humdrums in before and after work on the other week days.
There was no postponement date on the notice which meant it was going ahead rain or shine. But I needn’t have worried about floundering around in mud for hours with the rain pelting down, for the day dawned brilliant. I went along to the school and my group of boys was waiting for me.
We set off down the Waimahanga Track and spent the day in the depths of the mangroves.
Amongst other things, I learnt that, as well as being an important habitat for many plants and animals, mangroves help to hold the land together and stop the sea water from washing it away.
I learnt that it was still possible to collect multiple bags of rubbish from the same area where 12 bags had been collected on the previous class trip only two days before.
I learnt that I needn’t be worrying about my eight-year-old’s behaviour – his peers are just as silly and trying to get a photo of them all smiling or with normal faces, at least, was impossible.
I also learnt that hanging out for a day with a bunch of silly eight-year-old boys who are just too cool for school is quite fun and humbling.
And I learnt that, although the housework doesn’t wait patiently, some days it’s rejuvenating to just wake up and smell the, er, mangroves.