Yesterday, my husband took our kids to his parents' house and left me home to rest (I'm still fighting this terrible cough). They were gone for hours. The kids always have a really fun time there but my daughter came home quite sad. When I asked her about it, she said, "This is the worst Christmas, and the worst day, I have ever had." My husband said that she cried in the car all the way home.
My husband explained to me that her cousins had been visiting Grandma and Grandpa also, and her 6-year old girl cousin had brought with her a favorite gift she had received for Christmas: a super fancy, rockin' music-playing, purple guitar. I wondered if we had failed completely in our gift-buying for her. Since she had not requested something specific, my husband and I, after hours of brainstorming and shopping, ended up buying her a laptop (simple, not too high-tech, for 5- to 8-year olds). We thought we had found the perfect gift for her.
However, my conversation with my daughter last night ended somewhat abruptly when she explained, "I think this is the worst Christmas ever because I found out that Santa Clause is not real. If I didn't know that, then I would not have been sad. But, now I know, because I wished for the one thing that I really wanted: to be able to fly. And I didn't get that, so I know he's not real."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Being a parent sometimes just rips you up inside, you know?
She just amazes me, her mind and all she is made up of. I find myself speechless often while talking with her. I'm sure I am learning more from her than she is learning from me.