Pants-Free Parenting: Granting Christmas wishes is often no easy task

My 4-year-old daughter recently sat me down to give me her list for Santa. In the middle of the usual requests for stickers and paint and one of those dolls where you can do her hair, she said, 'An elevator and an escalator.”

'For what?” I asked.

She shrugged. 'Just tell Santa I want them.”

Every year since she could talk, my daughter has asked Santa for something impossible. The first year, she was 2 1/2. She sat on Santa's lap and asked for a 'teeny tiny sword and a teeny tiny ship.” Santa looked at me as if I had the flying reindeer and a magical sack and all the answers. The next year, she asked for a tuba. This year, it's the elevator and escalator. Every year, I've been able to make something work. I built a ship out of cardboard boxes. We bought a little whistle and told her it was a tiny tuba. This year, I have no clue.

She also mentioned she wanted all her dolls to have make overs. So, there is that.

My son? Well, we keep asking him what Santa will bring him. 'Toys,” he will answer gravely.

'What kind of toys?” I asked.

'New toys,” he said and walked away. I am sure that even though he is 2 (or perhaps because he is two), this is some sort of trap. He is testing the magic of Santa. Santa is afraid. Santa keeps badgering him until recently he relented and said, 'I want light bulbs.”

So, there you have it.

Pressing my kids for their Christmas lists, makes me forgive my parents for a lot of Christmas sins past. Although, nothing can excuse giving me a Barbie at 16, I do understand what they must have been going through when I handed them a piece of paper on Dec. 20 listing all sorts of jewelry and books that could not possibly be acquired at such a late date in the pre-Internet era.

As much as I want to fulfill my children's every request and every desire. As much as I want to make all their dreams come true, it is becoming quickly evident that I can't. I cannot give my 2-year-old light bulbs. I cannot acquire and escalator for my 4-year-old. The emergency room visits alone would be absurd.

I could wrap this up and say that real love is not giving your kids everything that they want. I know that. You know that. It would be redundant to say so. But, truthfully, part of me does truly want to give them what they want. I spend all year saying 'no” to everything. I like one time of year when I can say 'yes.” When I can wave a wand and make things happen. But this escalator tests my limits - of my money, patience, and sheer physical abilities.

Recently, I was on the phone with my mom, upset because I couldn't help my daughter figure out a problem she was having with school. 'You can't be everything to her,” my mom said. 'You are just one person.” The thought both devastated me and encouraged me. I am just a mom. I am not everything. I am not Jesus, Santa, Lord and Protector of the Realm. I'm just a person, with a job and lots of dishes. Sometimes I'm not enough and not because I don't want to be.

I never got that necklace I kept asking my parents for. I'm OK. I'd like to think I triumphed over that particular tragedy. And it encourages me to know that children turn out despite our best intentions and our worst parenting, which are sometimes one in the same.

' Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.