December 23, 2002
Rebel of the Sacred Heart
I was sitting at the kitchen table tonight, eating my sandwich and reheated french fries, with my grandmother on one end of the table and my mom puttering around on the other side of the kitchen. I was reading my book, so I didn't pay attention to the thread of conversation until my mom said something purposefully loud along the lines of "And Liadan's going to grow up and get married and have lots of children and she's going to tell them about Santa Claus, too!"
You can tell we've discussed this before.
To recap: My future marital status is uncertain. I do not know whether or not I will ever get married. In the same vein, if I do get married, whether I will have children is also unknown. Right now, I'm thinking I won't want children, for various reasons that are rather complicated, and do not involve hatred of children per se. And if I do get married, and if I do have children, I will not tell them that Santa Claus is real.
Actually, now I think about it, whether I'll ever grow up or not is also entirely in question, but that'll be saved for another entry...
Okay, yes, I'm such a heartless, cruel person for not wanting to lie to my children as to the existence of a white-bearded old man who lives up North and distributes good things to good children. Frankly, Santa's resemblance to your run-of-the-mill depiction of God is vaguely disturbing to me. So I would want to make *that* particular distinction to my children right off the bat. Santa does not = God. God does not have a white beard, he does not live Up There Somewhere, and he actually exists. Key distinction: Santa is not merciful. He has a Good List and a Bad List, and only those on the Good List get Good Things. Those on the Bad List get flame-related items. (Santa must be a Calvinist.)
Somehow, though, my mom sees this as somehow a "good" lie for the sake of fantasy and magic and such. Oh, and I should understand this, seeing how much I love fantasy and SF novels.
Key distinction: I know that my novels are fantasy. Small children do not know that Santa is fake. And I, for one, hated being lied to when I was a child and still hate being lied to by my parents. I could and can tell when they're lying to me "for my own good," and especially resent it when I can clearly tell what the truth is. Hence, I don't really trust my parents. Yeah, I know, EvilEvilEvil!Liadan.
No, I will not run around telling every child I come across that Santa isn't real and their parents are lying to them. I haven't told my sister yet. She'll probably be told by her friends at school and her sense of wonder and magic will die a small, pathetic death that day. Myself, I think there's plenty of wonder and magic in the world I could introduce children to without making stuff up, but hey, then again, I'm just Heartless and Cruel.
Of course, as I usually bring up at this point since I'm usually getting sick of the whole conversation, I'm not going to have children, so it's a moot point. And I promise not to disillusion my nieces and nephews. And Mom, you can stop whining about not ever having grandchildren, because I'm not sure if you've noticed but you've got other (presumably) fecund offspring running around for you to grandprocreate through.
This is where my grandmother decided to join in the fun and tell me that I'll change my mind when I'm older, blah blah blah. And while you're prognosticating, pray tell me today's Lotto numbers?
And I swear, if my mom tells me one more time that I would look so cute with Sean Tylers, who always asks about me and who obviously has fallen head-over-heels in love with me, based on our eight-day platonic association on the camping trip summer before last, I will throw things.
Do not predict my future for me. I'm content to stumble along myself trying to figure out what God wants me to do, Thank You Very Much.
You can tell we've discussed this before.
To recap: My future marital status is uncertain. I do not know whether or not I will ever get married. In the same vein, if I do get married, whether I will have children is also unknown. Right now, I'm thinking I won't want children, for various reasons that are rather complicated, and do not involve hatred of children per se. And if I do get married, and if I do have children, I will not tell them that Santa Claus is real.
Actually, now I think about it, whether I'll ever grow up or not is also entirely in question, but that'll be saved for another entry...
Okay, yes, I'm such a heartless, cruel person for not wanting to lie to my children as to the existence of a white-bearded old man who lives up North and distributes good things to good children. Frankly, Santa's resemblance to your run-of-the-mill depiction of God is vaguely disturbing to me. So I would want to make *that* particular distinction to my children right off the bat. Santa does not = God. God does not have a white beard, he does not live Up There Somewhere, and he actually exists. Key distinction: Santa is not merciful. He has a Good List and a Bad List, and only those on the Good List get Good Things. Those on the Bad List get flame-related items. (Santa must be a Calvinist.)
Somehow, though, my mom sees this as somehow a "good" lie for the sake of fantasy and magic and such. Oh, and I should understand this, seeing how much I love fantasy and SF novels.
Key distinction: I know that my novels are fantasy. Small children do not know that Santa is fake. And I, for one, hated being lied to when I was a child and still hate being lied to by my parents. I could and can tell when they're lying to me "for my own good," and especially resent it when I can clearly tell what the truth is. Hence, I don't really trust my parents. Yeah, I know, EvilEvilEvil!Liadan.
No, I will not run around telling every child I come across that Santa isn't real and their parents are lying to them. I haven't told my sister yet. She'll probably be told by her friends at school and her sense of wonder and magic will die a small, pathetic death that day. Myself, I think there's plenty of wonder and magic in the world I could introduce children to without making stuff up, but hey, then again, I'm just Heartless and Cruel.
Of course, as I usually bring up at this point since I'm usually getting sick of the whole conversation, I'm not going to have children, so it's a moot point. And I promise not to disillusion my nieces and nephews. And Mom, you can stop whining about not ever having grandchildren, because I'm not sure if you've noticed but you've got other (presumably) fecund offspring running around for you to grandprocreate through.
This is where my grandmother decided to join in the fun and tell me that I'll change my mind when I'm older, blah blah blah. And while you're prognosticating, pray tell me today's Lotto numbers?
And I swear, if my mom tells me one more time that I would look so cute with Sean Tylers, who always asks about me and who obviously has fallen head-over-heels in love with me, based on our eight-day platonic association on the camping trip summer before last, I will throw things.
Do not predict my future for me. I'm content to stumble along myself trying to figure out what God wants me to do, Thank You Very Much.
# posted by Liadan @ 10:21 PM 
