Santa and Holiday Balls: Christmas with a Toddler

By Thea DeLoreto, author of the blog The Lint Trap 

As y’all may know, I feel a little bit of holiday induced insanity this year. (If you don’t know then read Acute Holiday Anxiety and feel my pain.) Despite all that, I am enjoying the holidays by way of the wonder and excitement of a two year old. This year she understands about Santa Claus. Let me rephrase…she knows what he looks like and that he says “ho ho ho.” She does not understand that he brings her presents and comes down the chimney. If she knew he was going to bring her treats (her word for what she thinks is a prize) then she may have been a smidge more friendly when we saw him Sunday night.

Lady Baby will talk your ear off about Santa, however if she is forced to sit on his lap things get really ugly really quick. I attempted to throw her into Santa’s lap but she clung to me like a rabid spider monkey. Santa, in a very shrewd move, did not grab her when I tried to detach her from my front. He knew that she would claw his eyes out and rip his beard off. Instead it turned into a family picture. You will notice that Daddy and Mommy are the ham and cheese to the Alice and Santa sandwich. Also, note that Daddy is holding the wild animal. That is because I could not physically keep her in my lap while she flailed and thrashed. The highlight for me was when Santa strong armed the husband into sitting on his lap for the picture. Hubs tried to just lean in, but Mr. Claus was having none of that. He told us to sit down, “he had a knee for each of us.” Awkward. But we did it, because we were getting that free picture, by God. (Therapy is in Lady Baby’s future).

Thank goodness I checked the box that said they could use our picture in future advertising. It will be at the bottom of next year’s ad under the heading: Please do not bring your child to see Santa if you anticipate this reaction. It scares the reindeer and makes the elves cry. And they have a hard enough time wearing tights that squeeze their junk and shoes that are hard to walk in. Thanks, Management.

While Santa falls into Miss Priss’s category of good from far, but far from good, Christmas lights and decorations are a whole different story. Her Highness loves a good light explosion. When we are out and about after dark (which this time of year is approximately 4:30pm) I try to ride by houses with the kind of holiday tableau that make the power company dance with unbridled joy. You know the ones…Santa in a sleigh filled with penguins, baby Jesus and the blessed Mother nestled next to a blow-up Snoopy, and a mechanical Pooh waving along side the Wisemen.

My favorite part is the wire-wrapped-in-lights reindeer. There is always a fallen comrade that makes me feel like someone shot Blitzen and for some sick reason that makes me giggle. There is one of these seizure inducing yards in every neighborhood and my shawty LOVES them. All the better if you can find the neighborhood where the men are all competing to see whose yard is most visible to aliens. Those are a win-win. They have delightful decorations, even if they do sear your retinas, and someone’s manhood is getting a serious strokin’ (while all the other men are trying to decide how to out do him next year.) She digs all the lights and telling us about everything she sees.

However, the most delightful decorations to Lady Baby are the ones the neighborhood beside us puts up. There are zillions of big balls made of lights throughout the whole Sunset Hills neighborhood (in Greensboro). I also discovered this neighborhood also has its own blog called Lighted Christmas Balls. Check it out, so you can really pick up what I am trying to put down. The entire time we are riding through the neighborhood Lady Baby says the following on repeat, “Balls. Balls. More balls. More balls. Balls. More balls.” It is an instant mood lifter. There is no way not to laugh listening to that for five minutes.

Photo Credit Daniel Hassell

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