Isabel, this is the best. I love it! You nail all the love and pain and uncertainty around mothering a young child. Hope your son is looking forward to Christmas '23.
Debbie I can’t believe you read it! Thank you. I’ve got 8 boys over now for a bday sleepover and I can’t wait to dive into your work when I offload them all :)
What a lovely piece you wrote. It both warmed my heart and made me tearful. Mothers are afraid to go wrong and disappoint or break the spell. It took Max courage to face the end of a dream, and of a certain kind of reassuring belief in which, like all kids, he could wrap himself into. Smart, sensitive child!. His emotional reaction says it all.
We had to tell Nicolas when he was 8 yo. His questions were accurate and suspicious. We, parents, began feeling stupid; the magic was disappearing on its own.
And when we finally confirmed his doubts, he first remained silent, then bombed us with a bunch of questions that aggravated our position ("so, who drank the glass of milk? Wait, YOU wrote the letter, not Santa? How about the money the toot fairy brought, it was YOURS?") .
Then he looked very upset and sad, and finally dropped the guillotine sentence, the one that turned my world around for a while: "It's not so much that Santa (and the fairy tooth) do not exist. It's the fact that all these years you have been lying to me. When you keep asking I always tell you the truth. Why does it not work both ways?"
It really hit me in the face. Guts. Heart. My guilt went wild. Were we wrong to lie, and therefore be unethical, under the pretext to maintain our kid's happiness, based on a lie ? There is so much we MUST protect kids from, all the ugly, violent, sordid, scary aspects of the grown ups' world. Each age has its (sometimes painful) learning curve an it's more than enough. But. Are we grown ups, behaving in a puerile way, pretending to believe in the unbelievable, while they, children, rise from our lies an surpass us at some point with an outstanding maturity (accepting and forgiving)? Is that a necessary path? Or a waste of time, as those generations are more and more realists, considering the new techs, AI and Internet?
And yet love remains unaltered. Kids grow up. Love grows up. We grow older and we watch them...rise, as you said!
I believe I could feel almost every sensation behind your words here. Dreams are a very crucial part of our innermost selves, and, it's inspiring to see how you have handled the subject with maturity and kindness.
Life changes, but even so, the most important things remain the same. There’s no better time for honesty than right here, right now.
I wish a more than wondrous New Year to you and your whole family, full of good, light, love.
Each piece of yours I get to read, warms my heart a little bit more, and for that reason, I must say thank you!
Well done Belle. I like the snazzy generosity of a flying fatman. Makes me like Santa again. Christmas seems to me, far as it is from what I thought it was meant to be, to be more trouble than it's worth. But I am a holiday grinch. An attitude I have tried to pass on to my daughter sufficiently that she expects very little from me regarding Christmas. Forged in the fire of some hairy holidays in her early years, we, as a family mainly hide out. Looks like you and Max love each other big time.
The tenderness of this piece brought tears to my eyes & a smile to my face. Max seems like an old soul with a depth of empathy that is amazing & not easy to develop in today's world... Kudos, Mom & Dad, Et. Al villagers. He is both gentle in his beliefs & courageous in his confidence (demanding the "Truth"); he is your very own Don Quixote 😉 one of my favorite literary guys💕 His acceptance of & "rising" to the responsibility of contributing to the recipe of his family's Christmas joy is your example realized. Children do not often do what you ask; they do what they see. I have followed your writing for about 10 years & your wisdom has grown... How brave & clever of you to allow your spouse & family to drench you in the love & hugs they are seemingly eager to give on a constant basis...sans 🎄tyrant! Your observations of both your growth (and human frailties) & your family's very human negotiations of the milestones in life are encouraging to see and give hope to old ladies like me😂 Good health & ❤️ to you & yours in the New Year💕 Write On 😘
Mary: thank you for being with me for a decade. What a gift to have a witness for such a long time... I fear that Max takes after me in his pursuit of what's true--and also what's "fair," which is good except that score-keeping can be a great burden. I love your point about allowing ourselves to be loved. It makes me wonder...how often do we deny people the chance to love us as deeply as they would like by being too strong/strident/perfect to allow it...? That'll be an essay in '23, for sure. Thank you, always, for your generous observations.
An important moment in the life of a son and mother. Choosing honesty is difficult, but right. You have found the right words. Thank you for the New Year's essay.
This whole paragraph got me. 👇 It’s so applicable to how I do so much of life. Thanks for capturing so much of many of us grapple with in such beautiful, poignant ways. ❤️ Two canceled flights took the Christmas tyrant out of me this year - it was a strange relief.
“Because I didn’t have the energy to become a Christmas tyrant this year, Christmas had…no tyrant. Somewhere in early motherhood, I developed the misbelief that executing a perfect Christmas meant embodying both the noble humility of my Polish ancestors AND the snazzy generosity of a flying fatman. Never did the untenable incompatibility of these symbols cross my mind. Finally, this year, they unraveled.”
Totally!! Yes, the RELIEF. Exquisite. Also realizing that nobody really wants me wound-up anyway. Simple as that :) I hope you are where you want to be, despite the air trouble.
You are an extraordinary friend. I hope you slept in the middle of that new-car-smell kitchen and made everyone else go back to the bad old days of October, when they weren't allowed in. POWER MOVES.
What I delightful New Year’s Eve surprise! I felt that same shock and sadness as Max, but was equally excited that I got to participate in keeping the magic of Christmas alive for my younger brother. ❤️❤️❤️
It definitely feels like a rupture and repair situation, which makes it feel even more important to break the news in a controlled way. But there was a long period where I worried we'd done irreparable damage. (Wish I'd called you.) Tips on helping prolong the magic of helping are most welcome! Thank you, always, for being here, Caroline!!
Thank you for being here for it all, and for setting your own brave examples of truth. You are right. It is tender and sweet, and also the greatest gift we can give--we just have to stick through the hard parts to get to the other side.
Isabel, this is the best. I love it! You nail all the love and pain and uncertainty around mothering a young child. Hope your son is looking forward to Christmas '23.
Debbie I can’t believe you read it! Thank you. I’ve got 8 boys over now for a bday sleepover and I can’t wait to dive into your work when I offload them all :)
What a lovely piece you wrote. It both warmed my heart and made me tearful. Mothers are afraid to go wrong and disappoint or break the spell. It took Max courage to face the end of a dream, and of a certain kind of reassuring belief in which, like all kids, he could wrap himself into. Smart, sensitive child!. His emotional reaction says it all.
We had to tell Nicolas when he was 8 yo. His questions were accurate and suspicious. We, parents, began feeling stupid; the magic was disappearing on its own.
And when we finally confirmed his doubts, he first remained silent, then bombed us with a bunch of questions that aggravated our position ("so, who drank the glass of milk? Wait, YOU wrote the letter, not Santa? How about the money the toot fairy brought, it was YOURS?") .
Then he looked very upset and sad, and finally dropped the guillotine sentence, the one that turned my world around for a while: "It's not so much that Santa (and the fairy tooth) do not exist. It's the fact that all these years you have been lying to me. When you keep asking I always tell you the truth. Why does it not work both ways?"
It really hit me in the face. Guts. Heart. My guilt went wild. Were we wrong to lie, and therefore be unethical, under the pretext to maintain our kid's happiness, based on a lie ? There is so much we MUST protect kids from, all the ugly, violent, sordid, scary aspects of the grown ups' world. Each age has its (sometimes painful) learning curve an it's more than enough. But. Are we grown ups, behaving in a puerile way, pretending to believe in the unbelievable, while they, children, rise from our lies an surpass us at some point with an outstanding maturity (accepting and forgiving)? Is that a necessary path? Or a waste of time, as those generations are more and more realists, considering the new techs, AI and Internet?
And yet love remains unaltered. Kids grow up. Love grows up. We grow older and we watch them...rise, as you said!
-Dear Isabel,
I believe I could feel almost every sensation behind your words here. Dreams are a very crucial part of our innermost selves, and, it's inspiring to see how you have handled the subject with maturity and kindness.
Life changes, but even so, the most important things remain the same. There’s no better time for honesty than right here, right now.
I wish a more than wondrous New Year to you and your whole family, full of good, light, love.
Each piece of yours I get to read, warms my heart a little bit more, and for that reason, I must say thank you!
-Thaissa Lara.
Well done Belle. I like the snazzy generosity of a flying fatman. Makes me like Santa again. Christmas seems to me, far as it is from what I thought it was meant to be, to be more trouble than it's worth. But I am a holiday grinch. An attitude I have tried to pass on to my daughter sufficiently that she expects very little from me regarding Christmas. Forged in the fire of some hairy holidays in her early years, we, as a family mainly hide out. Looks like you and Max love each other big time.
You know you were on my mind through all of this. As witness to the Christmases of yore. Much to discuss, offline :)
The tenderness of this piece brought tears to my eyes & a smile to my face. Max seems like an old soul with a depth of empathy that is amazing & not easy to develop in today's world... Kudos, Mom & Dad, Et. Al villagers. He is both gentle in his beliefs & courageous in his confidence (demanding the "Truth"); he is your very own Don Quixote 😉 one of my favorite literary guys💕 His acceptance of & "rising" to the responsibility of contributing to the recipe of his family's Christmas joy is your example realized. Children do not often do what you ask; they do what they see. I have followed your writing for about 10 years & your wisdom has grown... How brave & clever of you to allow your spouse & family to drench you in the love & hugs they are seemingly eager to give on a constant basis...sans 🎄tyrant! Your observations of both your growth (and human frailties) & your family's very human negotiations of the milestones in life are encouraging to see and give hope to old ladies like me😂 Good health & ❤️ to you & yours in the New Year💕 Write On 😘
Mary: thank you for being with me for a decade. What a gift to have a witness for such a long time... I fear that Max takes after me in his pursuit of what's true--and also what's "fair," which is good except that score-keeping can be a great burden. I love your point about allowing ourselves to be loved. It makes me wonder...how often do we deny people the chance to love us as deeply as they would like by being too strong/strident/perfect to allow it...? That'll be an essay in '23, for sure. Thank you, always, for your generous observations.
...and they ALL rise! Lovely, lovely essay, dear Isabel. ❤️
Thank you a million times for supporting me in this work, Val. It means so much. May '23 be the year we meet in person. (January, how 'bout?)
The pleasure's all mine. ❤️
Yes to January! xo
An important moment in the life of a son and mother. Choosing honesty is difficult, but right. You have found the right words. Thank you for the New Year's essay.
Thank you for being here, Valentina. I am so grateful to you. Happy NYE 🧡
This whole paragraph got me. 👇 It’s so applicable to how I do so much of life. Thanks for capturing so much of many of us grapple with in such beautiful, poignant ways. ❤️ Two canceled flights took the Christmas tyrant out of me this year - it was a strange relief.
“Because I didn’t have the energy to become a Christmas tyrant this year, Christmas had…no tyrant. Somewhere in early motherhood, I developed the misbelief that executing a perfect Christmas meant embodying both the noble humility of my Polish ancestors AND the snazzy generosity of a flying fatman. Never did the untenable incompatibility of these symbols cross my mind. Finally, this year, they unraveled.”
Totally!! Yes, the RELIEF. Exquisite. Also realizing that nobody really wants me wound-up anyway. Simple as that :) I hope you are where you want to be, despite the air trouble.
Perfect essay by a perfectly imperfect mother. Last line really got me. I am going to enjoy a nap now.
You are an extraordinary friend. I hope you slept in the middle of that new-car-smell kitchen and made everyone else go back to the bad old days of October, when they weren't allowed in. POWER MOVES.
What I delightful New Year’s Eve surprise! I felt that same shock and sadness as Max, but was equally excited that I got to participate in keeping the magic of Christmas alive for my younger brother. ❤️❤️❤️
It definitely feels like a rupture and repair situation, which makes it feel even more important to break the news in a controlled way. But there was a long period where I worried we'd done irreparable damage. (Wish I'd called you.) Tips on helping prolong the magic of helping are most welcome! Thank you, always, for being here, Caroline!!
I guffawed early on…. Then that last line choked me up 🥺🥺 Real truth is full of such tender sweetness ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for being here for it all, and for setting your own brave examples of truth. You are right. It is tender and sweet, and also the greatest gift we can give--we just have to stick through the hard parts to get to the other side.