We asked Georgia what she wanted Santa to bring her for Christmas. She got some paper and “wrote” a list in her pre-school fancy cursive that may or may not contain actual letters. Somehow she knew that Santa would be able to read it.

Dear Santa,

I would like a real camera of my own.

Love,

Georgia

I stopped myself before I asked, “Is that all?” Was that really all she expected from Santa Claus? Have I raised such a reasonable child? I'm not exactly sure how this came about, but apparently Georgia believes that Santa brings one present for each child and fills the stockings with candy. That’s what she expects, and that’s what makes her happy. Where she got this idea — I have no idea. But we’re going with it. And if it turns out that Santa brings her friends more than one gift, I’m going to tell her that sometimes parents feel like they need to supplement Santa’s gifts, but he really does just bring one present (I’ll tell her to keep that under her hat though).

When I was little my Mom stretched her simple, sometimes very tiny Christmas budget in remarkable ways. There were always lots of presents to open. Granted, most of them were 88¢ store bargains, but we loved having a load of presents under the tree. Now that her economic situation is better she still feels the need to shower us with many, many gifts. It’s very sweet, and overwhelming, and it’s just the way it’s always been.

When Georgia was two, we spent Christmas Eve at my Mom’s. Georgia was finished with Christmas after the second present. There were many more to come, but she told us in her baby sign language, “Finished! Finished!” [1] She’d had her fun, and she was done.

Last year she wanted Santa to bring her a toy light for her Pee-Wee’s Playhouse [2] (one of the over-the-top gifts we felt she needed when she was two). That’s all she cared about. Well, that and the candy. She enjoyed the other things, but she still felt overwhemed and we just took it all very slowly so she could experience everything.

I’m sure this year will be a little different, since she does have a Christmas list that she made for all of the other gift-giving people in her life. (I am the one having to keep it simple. I’d love to get her everything on her list, but I know it will be too much.) But her expectations are not outrageous, they are simple and joyful, and I’m trying to remember that and not feed into the frenzy that will surely come as she gets older. She will be happy with one present from Santa and one present from us. She’s removed from the ads and the malls that sell Christmas as a time for gluttony, and I think somehow she has internalized that it’s fun to wish for lots of things, but that we don’t get everything we wish for. It’s not a sad thing to her, it’s just a reality, and I think it’s a good thing to learn. But it pushes my buttons as I fight my childhood expectations while trying to wrap my head around hers. What a refreshing thing to have one simple expectation! How nice to just sit with a present you’ve just opened and really explore and play with it without thinking, “What’s next?”

And it sort of makes me wonder, all these years what has been missing? What are my expectations? If I’d had the one wonderful handmade doll without all the other filler, would I have felt disappointed? This year I am trying to learn from Georgia. I’m loving the season, the music, the magic feelings, the lights and sweetness. We’ve got toys for less fortunate kids, and it’s helping us appreciate our good fortune. I’m feeling more generous giving fewer, carefully chosen things. Thanks to Georgia, I’m keeping it all more reasonable, and it’s feeling a lot more joyful.