Took my two and half year old to her playgroup Christmas party this afternoon. Not quite the glitzy lavish affair I'm sure Christmas parties will become when she's older with girls competing for how much of their mother's make-up they can steal and snogging boys just to see if they taste of pringles (what? like you never did that!)
It was as modest a gathering as thirty under threes in one room could be. The mothers/grannies/carers got coffee and homemade cake. The little ones got cocktail sausages and hulahoops, so much fun was had by all.
The highlight of the afternoon was the appearance of the long awaited Santa. He wasn't very portly, his beard wasn't real and his wellies were green rather than black but he did us proud. All the children received a present (a book rather than sweets) and his visit was short and sweet so no one caught him removing his beard to have a craftymince pie in the kitchen.
My daughter was terrified of him.
That is not to say she recoiled in horror but she would not be coerced into going anywhere near him. I couldn't blame her. I have drilled it into her from the time she started walking that she holds my hand, never wander off and never talks to people she doesn't know. And here I was telling her it's okay to go talk to a strange guy with a beard and a sack who wants to know what she wants for Christmas so he can climb down our chimney when she's asleep.
And we wonder why kids have nightmares.
Not to be deterred, however (she is my daughter after all) when asked to tell Sants what she wanted for Christmas she cupped her hands to her face and shouted over the crowd that she wanted 'a pink bike and a pink helmet'. He gave a thumbs up from a distance and she seemed satisfied with that.
Let's hope he has enough room on is sleigh.
It was as modest a gathering as thirty under threes in one room could be. The mothers/grannies/carers got coffee and homemade cake. The little ones got cocktail sausages and hulahoops, so much fun was had by all.
The highlight of the afternoon was the appearance of the long awaited Santa. He wasn't very portly, his beard wasn't real and his wellies were green rather than black but he did us proud. All the children received a present (a book rather than sweets) and his visit was short and sweet so no one caught him removing his beard to have a craftymince pie in the kitchen.
My daughter was terrified of him.
That is not to say she recoiled in horror but she would not be coerced into going anywhere near him. I couldn't blame her. I have drilled it into her from the time she started walking that she holds my hand, never wander off and never talks to people she doesn't know. And here I was telling her it's okay to go talk to a strange guy with a beard and a sack who wants to know what she wants for Christmas so he can climb down our chimney when she's asleep.
And we wonder why kids have nightmares.
Not to be deterred, however (she is my daughter after all) when asked to tell Sants what she wanted for Christmas she cupped her hands to her face and shouted over the crowd that she wanted 'a pink bike and a pink helmet'. He gave a thumbs up from a distance and she seemed satisfied with that.
Let's hope he has enough room on is sleigh.
