I don't know who was more upset

Yesterday, I killed Santa.  

I still feel sick.

I still have a headache.

I feel like the worst person on the planet.

Harry had his confo photos taken yesterday and, after they were done, we came home to hang out for an hour before I dropped him at the cinema where he was meeting his mates.  In that hour he lost a tooth.  I really, REALLY, wish he hadn't lost that tooth.  If he still had that tooth attached to his head Santa would still be alive.

He asked me what he should do with the tooth.  I said "under your pillow for the tooth fairy?!"  To which he said "MAM!?!?", so I said "Easter Bunny" . . He said "?!?!" ..... then we eyeballed each other for a few minutes before I said "Santa?"  He looked at me, I looked at him and he started to cry.  I told him that we needed to have a chat and explained what was what.  He kept crying and saying "....but . . does that mean . . . what???"

So, I started crying.  Fuck, but did I start to cry.  In the end I think he got over the whole revelation far quicker than I did.  I went to bed as soon as I could, 10pm, as my heart was broken. 

I am such a sap. 

I rang Darren, whilst he was food shopping, and he thought, due to the fact I was sob-coughing-crying on the phone that something bad had happened.  Er, hello???  SANTA is no more you bastard!!!!  Apparently "Harry had to find out sometime."  Fecker.  Karen was very practical too, as was Ger and Sinead.  Carol wasn't answering her phone and Lily was at the doctor and I forgot to ring Anna.  Can you see how much of an issue this is/was for me? 

I took Harry to the cinema early and, while in the car, asked him if he'd like to go for a hot chocolate or something.  He said "No, I'm fine."  Then, he took a look at me, with my puffy, red eyes and said "Mam, would you like to go for a hot chocolate?"  

"Yes, yes I would".

I love my boy so much and I am NEVER EVER telling anyone else anything that big again.  EVER. I came across this letter ages ago and thought 'I'm going to need this one day', didn't realise I'd need it less than a year after I first read it.  I've put my spin on it but . . yeah, I have this for Harry, for next November when everyone is getting excited and he knows.  He knows that he is Santa.

Dear Harry,

I am so sorry to tell you that there is no one Santa.  That it's me who fills your stocking.  That it's me who picks and wraps the presents that go under the tree, the way my mam did for me and her mam did for her (dad helps too by the way).

I know, hope, that one day you are going to do this for your kids.  I know you are going to love seeing them run down the stairs on Christmas morning (having spent most of the night yourself on tenterhooks that they are never EVER going to go asleep).  You are going to love seeing them sitting in a pile of wrapping paper their faces huge with excitement.  

This won't make you Santa though.

Santa is way bigger than any one person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us has lived.  What Santa does is simple but powerful.  He teaches kids to believe in something they can't see or touch.

It's a huge job and a really important one.  Through your life you will need this ability to to believe.  Believe in yourself, your friends, your talent, your family.  You'll need to believe in things you can't measure or hold in your hand.  I know, I know, your mam is s sap but, bear with me.  I'm talking about love, that great magic that will light you up from the inside out, even when you're scared.

Santa is a teacher and I am his student and, now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve.  He has help from all the people whose hearts he has filled with love and magic.

Myself and your dad take turns helping Santa to do a job that would be impossible without us.

So, no, there is no one Santa.  Santa is love and magic and happiness and hope and excitement and wonder.  I'm on his team and now  you are too.  

Harry, my love, you are Santa.

Love you always,

Mam xxx

Going for a lie down now.  

I love people who make the magic even more magical.

Photo source here

I didn't intend to blog today, it's Christmas Day after all but last night . . . well, something really magical happened.  We had everyone over for our annual Christmas Eve dinner and it was a bit sad because it's Eoin and Za's last one here with us for a while and it was also a bit sad because during the year my mam's big serving plates got smashed - not normally a big deal but it was a way of including them.  This year though we invited Himself's family and boosted the numbers up to a whopping 12 adults and 3 kids (my Turkish Delight doesn't count yet as she doesn't need a chair).  It was a great night, kids were delighted with themselves, the gravy was out of this world and the company was second to none.  But the 'magic'?  Well, Himself handed me his phone and said 'you're onto Norad - Santa Tracker'.  There was a lovely man at the end of the phone and I told him who I was and were I was ringing from and then I asked the big question 'When will Santa be here?'  He said 'M'am, he'll be in Dublin, Ireland, between nine and midnight but ONLY if the children are asleep.  He'll call back later if they're not.  He's making good time because of the winds, Happy Christmas Ma'am.  Goodnight.'  To say I nearly peed with excitement.  I love that there are men and women (I rang FOUR times) who are at bases and doing this for all of us.  It's still making me weepy because I love the magic. 

I pulled the following article from ABC News. Promise me you'll ring them next year, you can check the whereabouts of the Big Man on 001 719 556 5211.  It's the most wonderful thing ever.

On Christmas Eve, children all around the world will lie awake  wondering if, at any moment, Santa Claus will slide down their chimneys and leave the presents of their dreams. But all they really have to do is call in or go online to find out where Santa and his team of reindeers are at any given moment.

Every year, the North American Aerospace Defense Command tracks Santa’s journey around the world, using radar, satellite, fighter aircraft and, of course, a “Santa Cam.”

The tradition began as so many do – by accident. In 1955, a little girl who saw a Sears and Roebuck ad called in to what she thought was a Talk-to-Santa hotline. But she did not hear Santa Claus on the other end of the line.

Instead, she heard Col. Harry Shoup. He was working in the CONAD ops center (NORAD’s predecessor) and was shocked to hear a child’s voice. According to a NORAD spokesperson, John Cornelio, only two people had the number for that line – the president and the four-star  commander.

As it turned out, the department store had printed the wrong number in the ad and alas, a  tradition was born.

“It’s the innocence of the story that makes it so special,” Cornelio said. And Harry Shoup was given a new title- he is known as  Santa Colonel.

Since that innocent phone call more than 50 years ago, NORAD tracks Santa’s progress around the globe, year after year.

To track his journey this Christmas Eve, you can visit the NORAD website, or call in to 877-HI-NORAD.

The NORAD Santa Tracker also uses social media to connect with Santa enthusiasts. NORAD has Facebook and Twitter pages, and a YouTube channel. And this year, for the first time, NORAD has a smart phone application for Andriod and iPhone users.

NORAD expects more than 80,000 phone calls and 20 million people using its website to track Santa this year.

So come Christmas Eve, when not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse, break the silence and see just how close Santa is to bringing joy to your area.

The day after the day before.

Sigh.  I'm 38.  Oooh, actually typed 28 by accident.  Nah, I'm 38 which is a year younger than a friend of mine even though she now thinks we're the same age.  We're not!!!!!  She is only the same age as me for one week.  HAHAHAAH.  She is old man.  OLD!!  Nah, shouldn't slag, she made/bought me the most beautiful birthday present.  It's a picture of the shop we're going to own one day.  Flowers and cakes (or is it cakes and flowers?) I'll get a photo of it soon and post it.  

Got some lovely presents yesterday.  Including a book by Jeremy Clarkson (I love him.  I love that he talks the way it is.  Love the way he doesn't care too).  Also got Joseph O'Connor's drivetime Cd and . . .  well, there is someone who has latched on to something and every year (birthday and Christmas) I get some variation of the same thing.  It's really funny but I don't know what to do with them.  It's like how, say, you remark to someone that you like, I dunno . . . white musk from the body shop.  (I'm a kid of the 80s).  Every year you get the same white musk gift-line.  Same with this person.  Love her but she's on a roll now with this gift choice and I think it's really funny.  Ask me quietly and I'll tell you what and who.

#1 made me a lovely cake, with some help from #2 and Himself.  It was Maureen's Coffee cake, the mum of a friend of mine.  It is utterly delicious and you'll find the recipe on the blog somewhere.  What else?  Went to see Santa in Arnotts, as we do every year.  We queued for 3 hours to see the big guy and then . .  . we came home.  The boys had become so hungry during our wait that Himself took them to Burger King or some such which meant that by the time we were finished and #1 had been warned his name was slipping off the page (naughty watch to you and me - bedroom issues) they were good to go and I was starving but they just wanted to come home and decorate the tree.  I had a packet of crisps for my birthday dinner!?  

Got home, got tree out and put it together then the kids decorated it.  Himself did the lights but the boys decorated it which means #1 and #2 got pissed off and left to watch a cartoon so #3 decorated it which means there are no decorations on the upper half of the tree.  It looks really funny, looks like the tree is wearing a beaded skirt.  

Then it was up to tidy my room (floordrobe has been tidied away) and into bed with a hot water bottle and one of my many birthday books by 9pm!!!!  I get older but go to bed earlier?  That is so shite.  #1 stays up later than me nowadays.  

M rang to have a chat about the odd text messages I'd been sending her.  Turns out that, now it's in credit, my phone had been firing out all those messages that were in my outbox.  They would have made sense at the time but they weren't last night.  Her ringing also gave her an insight into one of my biggest and dirtiest secrets.  I like radio 1.  Especially on a Sunday night when they have lots of Irish bodiddlyeye stuff on.  I'm fucked.  I'm old and I like bodiddlyeye music.  The fact that I still love Prince, The Beastie Boys and Blur should play in my favour.  It does play in my favour, doesn't it?