So, yesterday was Easter.
It was the first major holiday since BabyGirl G. admitted that she knew about Santa, and the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy etc. We made it through Christmas, but I think it was more from the point of "if I tell them I know about Santa, will I still get presents from him?" aspect than anything. A couple days after Christmas she asked us about Santa, having heard from school and the bus that Santa was really mom & dad.
I knew it was coming - she's going to be ten in a couple months now - but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
It's interesting. When you have kids, you experience all the magic of the holidays all over again. You see Christmas as this wonderful, amazing time of the year - from the other side, too. You get to see the magic of the season in your child's eyes when they come downstairs and see the presents from Santa - "magic" really is the best way to describe it.
Yet, as we all know, everything comes with a price. Eventually, they grow up. Kids talk. Rumors abound. And one day, you get the question every parent dreads: "Dad, is Santa real?". Now, I bought a year by stating, quite truthfully, that yes, Santa was real - the parents out there are nodding their heads. You know Santa is real because you *are* Santa - and that's an experience I wouldn't trade for any other.
And now, after my first Easter of *not* being the Easter Bunny, I'll admit to being just a little verklempt...
That is all.