I’ve been writing on the internet long enough to take my share of (*cough*) negative feedback. Like the group who sent me daily messages for A YEAR in response to a post about circumcision. Or the dude who asked politely for photos of me, erm… bathing inside my newly renovated bathroom. Or the concerned parents who read this post and felt it necessary to detail every possible horrible, terrifying, soul-destroying thing that could have happened while I watched my daughter sob on our driveway. And we won’t get into the stuff from those who feel I’m setting my kids up for a brief life of abiding dissatisfaction, ended by drug addiction and suicide, because I’ve taught them how to read.
Wow.
On Friday, this picture appeared in The Globe and Mail, along with an edited version of the events preceding.
See? Santa thinks it's funny.
I was four months pregnant with my son, in this photo. Halfway through eight solid months of morning all day sickness, and wearing glasses because enlarged blood vessels in my eyes made contact lenses unbearable. I hate having my picture taken. Hate. But here I am, smiling away, because it’s a CHRISTMAS TRADITION and I was going to be nauseous, achey, embarrassed, HAPPY about it if it frickin’ killed me.
My daughter was 20 months old, here. Speaking clearly and intelligently, and already drawing her first happy faces and sunflowers on the chalkboard in the kitchen. No longer the sleepy baby she was in her first Santa photo, we asked her about it:
“Danica, do you want to go see Santa?”
“Oh, YES!”
“Do you want to sit on his knee and ask him about presents?”
“Oh, YES!”
And, wiggling with excitement, we packed her into the car, and went to West Edmonton Mall during prime time because we’re stupid because I was puking sick with the effort of growing my son and didn’t want to wait in line without my husband.
An hour or so later, after smiling and nodding at Danica’s constant chatter about Santa and his castle and his chair and that lady over there and the camera and the pretend snow and the jingle bells…. After getting her in and out of her puffy winter coat six times. After singing songs and doing finger plays, and otherwise trying not to lose our minds to maintain her excitement, we paid a ridiculous sum for four photos and waited our turn to visit the Jolly One.
She reached her arms out to him. She sat on his knee and looked patiently up at him. And then she saw me backing away… and WAILED.
We tried seating me just out of the photo while still holding Danica’s hand, behind Santa with my hand on her back, or kneeling in the foreground to maintain eye contact. We tried! But I ended up parked right beside that very, very patient man with an exhausted smile on my face and my princess trying to get her little body as far away from him as possible.
And it was funny.
The reporter approached me about this story via a comment I left on an UrbanMoms blog, and it was pitched as a humourous take on the lengths to which a parent will go to get that Santa photo. Let’s emphasize “humourous”, here. As in, “comical”, “chuckle-worthy”, and “liable to incite giggles”. Something about which one might laugh.
The article isn’t funny. I am disappointed in the way my words were edited together. The tone has changed. That’s not my voice. But mostly? I was stunned at how angry some readers felt about the harm I had done to my child.
What?
There is no need to counsel me on separation anxiety, stranger anxiety, and compromised attachment. I’ve read about it. Extensively. I promise. I’m not a sadist because I laughed when my daughter endured a full three minutes of horror in the presence of The Most Benevolent Mascot Known to Man.
It was funny.
Just like the harlequin mask of my son’s face when the pasta on his plate is the wrong shape. Or the flop-and-drop perfected by toddlers the world over in response to such grave injustices as having juice in a red cup (NOT a purple one), being prohibited from wearing the same Cars/Dora/Dinosaur shirt for the third consecutive day, or leaving any place for any reason.
It’s funny!
Because if we don’t laugh, we’ll cry. Because if we lose our sense of humour, our kids will never gain theirs, and all of us need to do a better job of laughing at ourselves.
Because it’s Christmas time, and we are so good at finding reasons to feel bad, feel guilty, stress, accuse, and complain, that we’re missing the point. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be funny. It’s supposed to be something so good that even the most neurotic among us can’t make it bad.
I will proceed with extreme caution before allowing anyone to use my voice again. This was a learning experience. But you know what? I will also take my kids to see Santa at the market next weekend. Maybe share some hot chocolate, go for a sleigh ride…
And try not to laugh too hard when my son looks on The Jolly Old Elf with absolute terror.
I remember being in a mall years upon years ago just before Christmas. The line up to do the Santa thing was enormous. Briefly I spoke to a young couple, who had patiently stood in line (close to an hour and a half) to have a Santa picture taken with their beautifully dressed two year old first born son. I stepped back, thinking it would be fun to watch the expression of pride and enjoyment on their young faces as junior sat on NIck’s lap. They proudly stepped up and placed him on his lap. In a blink and a heart beat their son was off Santa’s lap like a bat of hell. Whizzed right past them, not stopping nor looking back. The both looked at each other and then grinned. She said, “he’s your son, go get him”. He set out on a run after the runaway laughing all the way. She fell to the marble floor. Laughing hysterical, her head between here knees. She looked at me saying, ” I keep telling him our son takes after me more than him, now that proves it, our son has common sense like myself”. I think this couple had the right tude as yourself -’Because if we don’t laugh, we’ll cry’.
As for the paper article -People still read news papers?
I know exactly that laugh, Hudson. That sort of hysterical on-the-verge-of-tears sort of I-can’t-believe-this-just-happened sort of laugh. And it really is so much better than crying!
Evidently, a few people still read newspapers but the circulation numbers have been in precipitous decline for the last decade. I can’t imagine WHY…. :)
Oh my gosh. As if you need that nonsense. You did what you had to do. Anyone who criticizes you for sitting with your daughter is crazy. Why should she feel great about sitting on some stranger’s lap??
I know, right? I’m not sure what the reporter was trying to achieve with that article, but the outcome was really surprising.
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Great picture Desi! Not fun to feel misrepresented. An for sure, got to laugh!
I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring up Santa with my kids. I don’t have a strong relationship with him, but It seems my in-laws do! We’ll see…
Thanks, Natasha. My husband and my family have different Christmas traditions, and it has been a bit of a balancing act for us over the years. We don’t want to be disrespectful, but we would like to combine traditions in a way that works for us. Good luck to you, my friend. And happy holidays!
Haha, I think everybody has horrific (yet funny) Santa moments. Actually, the header image on my blog is a picture of my sister and I enjoying a precious moment with Santa. And by enjoying I mean being in a state of sheer panic.
Hahahahaha! So awesome. There is a certain universal thing about the terror of Santa. Maybe THAT’s what makes it so funny!
Loved reading this, minus the twisted article and bad comments. <3
Thanks! I’m so happy you enjoyed it! :D
—Great Photo. Sweet.
Love the old fashioned Santa Costume.
Enjoyed the Post :))))
Thanks! That guy was easily the best Santa ever. He must have sat with a minimum of 200 kids that evening alone, and still managed an authentic “Merry Christmas” and a genuine smile for each one of them.
I really liked reading that one!
In addition to it being a wonderful tale in it’s own right, it also helped me to remember my adventures with the Santa of the mall. Whether it be my first-born almost ripping my arm from it’s socket in an effort to get TO the jolly old elf, or my youngest damned near trampling several children behind him in an effort to get away.
Thanks for sharing your memories and helping rekindle some of my own in the process.
Hahahaha! Thanks for sharing YOUR memories! That must have been a crazy time for you all. And probably lots of fun, too :)
You’re the best! {giggle}
((hugs)) And wouldn’t a Zombie Santa be all kinds of awesome?!?!
Good writing, as always. Especially enjoyable are the “scratch-offs”. You’re good, really, really good. What’s up with grad school?…
Wow! Thanks, Lindy Lee! Grad school starts January 9th. 28 days to go! :D
This reminds me of the holiday movie A Christmas Story, wherein every single child was terrified of Santa and his elves. I don’t have children and I wasn’t petrified of Santa myself but apparently the terror is much more common than joy! I think it’s great you can look back on this and find a funny memory, despite the article debacle AND that you were enduring all-day sickness while you were pregnant!
Happy Holidays indeed.
Thanks, Zoe. I haven’t seen the movie, but I could totally picture a bunch of kids running and screaming at the sight of Santa and his elves! Poor Santa ;)
It’s easy to call others down on things we don’t have the courage to do. I have that picture of me, sitting on Santa’s lap, with my daughter in My lap. I save it with my other Christmas pics and put them up on my fridge every year. She loves them just as much as I do, it’s simply part of Christmas! :)
Don’t listen to the haters, they’re mad ’cause they got coal last year.
Good memories, there. I look at that photo and remember what a character my girl was at that age. How she would lose track of a toy, stand up and look around with her hands on her hips and say, “Now, where it be?” Loved that.
Those haters got coal? Now, here I was thinking they got freeze-dried cow poop. I’ll just have to go ahead and send them some…. ;)
People are so damn crazy!
They are that. ‘Tis the season for perpetual insanity, right?
Yes!
*fist bump*
Take heart Desi, perhaps Santa can bring the offending individuals sense of humor transplants this year! Keep up the good work. Merry Christmas!
Hahahaha! Thank you, sweet lady :)
Desi, they edited your blog? And didn’t tell you first? That’s not right :( especially if desi doesn’t shine through :( tough lesson
They didn’t edit my blog, thank goodness! The reporter edited together bits of two telephone conversations she and I had, and I’m just not thrilled with the way it turned out. Lesson learned!
Sorry someone miss used your words. That is very stinky of them to do so. Girl … we been runnin into the same dip-wads. I am going to be kind and just say they don’t know you or they would not have jumped to such conclusions …. ding bats ….
forget them!
Oy. Yes, dip wads and ding bats. I’m sorry you’ve had to run into them, too. It makes me want to do irrational things like store paper plates and cans of whipped cream in my purse. I mean, if ANYONE needed a pie in the face, right? Unfortunately, they call this “assault”. Ding bats.
Having paper plates and whipped cream sounds fantastic to me! I have to say — I have gone back to school to study Psychology — and some “Psychologists and P-shrinkers are full of CRAP. Sorry for the simple uneducated language, but that is what it boils down to. My question for these experts who slandered your parenting skills is —
1) do they have children
2) Are their children healthy and successful?
If no to either of these questions … I personally think they are completely disqualified from speaking about what children need — NO real life experience really makes their input theory at best.
Just my two cents.
There is *always* somebody just *waiting* to get his/her hackles up about *something*. We just get to be the lucky catalysts when we step on their landmines and get blowed up on their petards of martyrdoom. Makes me want to scream. But, as you so wisely point out, that won’t fix a thing. Just like tantrum-throwing toddlers, these small-minded social police aren’t yet in a mindset to accept instruction or kindly difference of opinion, so all I can reasonably do in response to such stubborn ignorance is laugh a good loud belly laugh (adding in some snorting and shooting out tears of mirth, if possible) and get ‘em the h-e-double hockey sticks out of my life. Come on along for the har-de-hars any old time, my dear. I know you’ve got it in you! The evidence is right here. :)
Yes! Let’s have some belly-laughs, snorts, mirthful tears, and chuckles! Lots and lots and lots of them! Because, sadly, they are safely out of range of this box of rotten tomatoes over here. Maybe I should ship them….
Just make sure to ship the tomatoes super-express so they can get up enough speed for proper impact! (She said with a very impish grin.)
I think it is a great pic! As for the G&M article you can tell they took the fun out of it ;)
They did! Words like “stodgy” and “self-serious” come to mind (among other, less polite phrases). I love that picture, too. It’s quite the memory!
Oh, heck. I love this photo and you all, including Santa, are adorable. You’re being a good sport about the article.
We do have to laugh, and other people are not always going to understand. Oh well. We’ll just laugh some more.
Awww, thanks, Melanie! I’m trying to be a good sport about the article… but, wow! I’ve been laughing and shaking my head about it since Friday. I guess that’s a good sign :)
Desi-
I laugh sometimes when my kids cry- I did a post on it with video actually- and someone told me that Angelina Jolie got raked over the coals for doing the same. I agree. Sometimes, the reason for the crying is so ridiculous or inopportune, you’ve just gotta take the edge off. I didn’t think the article portrayed you badly- But, I can understand if you thought you were misrepresented…. :)
Thanks, Trisha. I don’t think the article portrayed me badly, either. It just didn’t sound like me, and that bugged me more than I thought it would. Really, it was the reader comments following the article that threw me for a bit of a loop. Especially after the newspaper framed the article with feedback from a child psychologist. It makes me feel like “funny” was never actually their intent. Grrrr!
Gee, I love the disclaimer on the bottom of the G&M page”Interviews have been edited and condensed. “. I can tell that that is not what you have said – the fact that they referred to Danica as a 1 1/2 year old baby is a dead giveaway to any one that knows you, or even knows of you, that this had been ‘edited’ to what they wanted to post. I did not know Danica at that age, I met her months later, but I can guarantee that at 20 months old there was no way she could have been considered a ‘baby’. For that fact, at five years old she could likely not only read the G&M article but also edit it and give her own review on it.
Glad to hear you aren’t taking the G&M to heart – they want people to read and that’s what’s happening. When I first looked at the photo of Danica, you and Santa I couldn’t see anything wrong with it. I was most of the way through the G&M article before I realised that they don’t think you belong there. You’re sitting right next to your daughter and that’s where she wanted you, what’s wrong with that?
I didn’t mind being edited as much as I was disappointed in the direction the article took. In the printed version in the newspaper, they went so far as to follow the article with advice from child psychologists on honouring your child’s stranger and separation anxieties, and so on. Because parents don’t have enough to feel bad about already, right?
I still think the photo is hilarious, and it is definitely a Christmas memory worth smiling about around here!
I myself think it is funny. And it shows the lengths we will go to just our children can have that memory forever. Sorry you were edited and I have been there and have an old picture of my daughter when she was about 4 on Santas lap screaming and reaching out to me. It wasn’t the most flattering picture of her but to this day, I love it! Especially when I get to show it to her lol
lol We managed to get my son onto Santa’s knee for about 45 seconds and got exactly one shot of him screaming and reaching for me that we disposed in order to keep the one of his sister smiling. We should have kept it!
Similar thing happened to me. Sucks to be edited.
It does. So frustrating!