Worm Loves Worm... an emotional roller coaster.

Never has a single book given me such a roller coaster of emotions.

Worm Loves Worm by J.J.Austrian, illustrated by Mike Curato

I can’t even begin to explain how this book had me flipping and flopping at the turn of every page. Let me try.

First, my daughter picked it up. As a general rule, I try to read everything she brings me… only saying no to the truly bad books. Ya, know. The ones that, literally, hurt your feelings as you read them or worse, make you dumber as a human being.

I have to say, that with FEW exceptions… books were characters are ‘named’ as their species, have, in my experience, been high on the list of books that hurt my very soul to read them. So ‘Worm Loves Worm’ was instantly low on my list of exciting things for my daughter to bring me.

But when she wants to read it… we suck up our feelings and read it. Even if it hurts. So we opened the book.

Spoiler Alert!

Worm marries worm… I just wanted to make that clear. Not only are they in love… they marry.

So, as they discuss getting married, other creatures impose their ideas on what a wedding includes. These impositions include, a minister, a best beetle, and brides bees. Then a cake, rings and a band. 

‘Oh great.’ I think to myself, another book about how a marriage isn’t real unless you have a “traditional” wedding. Am I reading too much into a picture book… No. No, I’m not.  

But, she’s loving it so I read on. I did appreciate Worm and Worm retorting each suggestion with perfectly valid reasons they didn’t need those things. They don’t need rings, they have no fingers. They don’t need a band, they have no feet for dancing. I also began to appreciate Worm and Worm for remaining optimistic and finding ways to incorporate these things they don’t really need and having such a positive attitude. 

Even still, after several pages of this, I’m getting annoyed with their acceptance of every demand made by their friends. Then, the final straw for me? Wedding attire. As someone who married her high school sweetheart almost 10 years after graduation, at a park, wearing jeans… I almost put the book down when everyone suggested they needed a dress and tux.

Now, if you’re reading this book along with your kid… or along with this post. Don’t close it just yet. I promise. 

Keep going.

Because, Worm and Worm finally stand up for themselves, completely. They each wear part of a dress and part of a tux… rendering them each completely unisex. Gender Neutral? Equal. 

“We can be both.” they declare. Even after Cricket tries to shoot that down, their response is perfect… and I’m sold.

Worm and Worm are now married. I retrace my emotional roller coaster to snap these pictures for this lovely post and I realize… the worm with the white in it’s eyes… never speaks! It’s always the worm with only pupils, who’s mouth is open, talking. 

Now, what started as a book that was surely going to hurt my feelings to read. Turned into a great book on gender equality, using a wedding, the most UNequal gender event (possibly)…. but then turned into a dark book about abusive relationships. (and don’t even get me started on the cannibalism, I’m looking at you spider)

FRIENDS! If you’re in a relationship that denies you a say in how your life turns out, PLEASE! Get help. Just because Worm was preaching equality in the wedding does not mean they were practicing it in the relationship. Lesson learned!

Nothing is ever as it seems… not even Worm Loves Worm.

ING

!jen

Santa is dead. Joy. It's that time of year again.

Yes. I told my daughter Santa was dead. But that was like 3 years ago now, so who's still fussing about it?? I'll tell you who. Adults who can't let it go.

So lets back up. I never intended to tell my daughter Santa was dead. It was not my formal plan from the beginning. I'll admit, I have very few formal plans where things like this are concerned. I prefer to let these things play out organically....Here's how 'Santa is dead' organically came to be.

When Z was 3 we were at a community event in which Santa arrives on a fire truck. As the truck drove in she was up on daddy's shoulders and asked, 'mommy, is that the real Santa?' I couldn't lie, I said 'no sweet girl.' Hoping that would be the end of it.... I know unreal hope, I know.

She asked 'where is the real Santa?' I looked at my husband, who promptly made the 'slashing across the throat' motion to tell me 'don't do it'. I threw my hands up in helplessness, turned to my daughter and said 'he's dead.' 

I know, you're about to jump in your time machine and slap 'past' me before I'm able to ruin Xmoose. But here's the thing, she took it like it was totally normal, which it is. People die all the time, some are already dead, fact of life. She asked 'then, who is that?' indicating the Santa on the truck. I told her he was one of Santa's helpers. NOW, you're wondering how a dead man can have helpers. Isn't a dead man in MOST need of helpers to carry on their work?  Santa (clause), Walt (Disney), Steve (Jobs), Jim (Henson), Abraham (Lincoln).... The list could go on, but you get it, right? Many of history's great accomplishers had posthumous assistance in carrying on their work. So it goes with Santa. We also explained to her that Santa has MANY helpers. This man on the truck, the Santa at the mall and even me and daddy, when we put your presents under the tree and you are Santa's helper. She looked at me and daddy in awe. 'I am santa's helper?' Then we had the best conversation about spreading love and kindness and that anyone who does that is one of Santa's helpers, anytime of year. The look of AWE in her eyes at the idea that we were all Santa's helpers, it was better than any wide eyed amazement at 'santa' related lies, like foot prints outside our fireplace, or bites taken out of cookies or calls on the phone to Santa himself. 

Sister Z, watching excitedly as someone ELSE opens presents, Despite knowing Santa is dead...amazing!

On the way home Z asked how Santa died. I was again, honest and said I didn't know. We talked about what we did know. He was a very kind man that lived so long ago that no one alive today, was alive with him. He loved children SO much that he used to make gifts for all the children in his village and deliver them in the middle of winter when the snow was too think for children to come out and play. He would load up his sleigh, the best way to travel over snow, and deliver the toys. By this point my husband had looked up how Saint Nicolas had died, natural causes. She asked what that meant, we explained it meant he just got so old that his body couldn't work anymore. She accepted all of this. Without fuss or doubt or confusion. Take a look at Wikipedia for a little muttled history of Santa. He comes from SO many people and cultures to a modified version of a mix of all of them. It's no wonder parents feel they need to lie. They don't know the truth either :) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus

This is how I used to think of Santa. Image found on FineArtAmerica

Here's the best part. None of this has dampened her awe or belief in the spirit of Xmoose. She loves Xmoose movies, Xmoose decorations, singing Xmoose carols, and shopping for presents for family and friends. Each year she becomes more aware of the importance of being kind, gentle and forgiving. Although she will play along with 'maybe Santa will bring it for Xmoose' and even talks about him in a real sense, if asked flat out, she says he's dead, he lived a long time ago and died a long time ago. 

Why am I ok with this? As a parent, don't I want to foster belief in magical things? Don't I want to foster a rich imagination? Come meet my children, their belief in magical things is fostered by our belief that ALL things are magical. Her rich imagination is fostered by our ability to 'say yes' when we play. If she wants her pet dragon to smell like strawberries and breathe bubbles and grow fur at night to keep them both warm... We say yes!

Another side note reason about being OK with it is this:

Found this image through a google search on Sorcerer's Skull.

I personally left Satan behind in my early 20's (I literally don't believe in Satan or evil for that matter, but that's a blog for another time :) and shortly after that similarities between Satan and Santa were undeniable.

1. They are both considered 'outside of God'. Satan, out rightly opposing God and Santa, simply ignored by the church and considered 'secular' and thus ungodly.

2. They are both personifications of mixed cultural influences and thus neither is true to its origin.

3. and most inspiring for my dislike of societies use of either one....They are both used to keep children in line. 'Be good or satan takes you to hell', 'be good or Santa won't bring you presents'.
How can I believe in and perpetuate a lie that is used to keep my children "good" by instilling fear?
No. I prefer that they are good because they choose to be, because we have taught them the joy of it.

But I digress...

Santa is dead, mostly because I couldn't lie to her. Think about it....telling our children there is a man and millions of elves at the North Pole, building all the toys for every child on the planet and delivering them in one night... Is a lie. Even if its justified as fostering the magic of childhood.... It's still a lie. For some kids, learning Santa isn't real is a huge turning point. For some of those kids... Learning their parents lied for so many years is even more traumatic. I will not lie to my kids. Period. About anything. Why would Santa be different? A lie is a lie. How can I teach my children not to lie, if I am not willing to live by the same? 

I can't. So I won't lie to them. This means I have many conversations that parents dread or worse postpone as long as possible. And I am convinced that having such conversations whenever my children ask means we have a more honest relationship... And a closer one. Because my children learn VERY early, that they can 1.ask me anything, 2.get an answer, and 3.my answer will be honest and true. Isn't it terrible when you hear of teenagers searching for answers about sex online and falling prey due to their ignorance? All because they didn't feel they could ask Mom or Dad. Or worse, they were brave enough to ask the awkward questions and got unsuitable lies instead of the honest truth. This will never be my children... or any child who is brave enough to ask me.

Anyway! After seeing 'Rise of the Guardians' and reading the books, the whole house sees Santa (Nicholas St. North) a little differently... its more like this now:

Found this image on Fairy Room: In Search of Krampus

'In Search of Krampus' written by Brom, has just given my house several books to add to our holiday selections... what a nice surprise while I was just looking for pictures of Santa.

So, in our house Santa is dead and we are all his helpers. People often find this disconcerting... but it works for us. It allows us to focus on the Spirit of the Season instead of the biggest present under the tree. 

Feel free to comment, I'd love to hear what your family does that others may find odd. They tend to be the most fun and meaningful traditions.

Wether you perpetuate the myth of Santa in ways I would find ethically appalling :) or you retell the story of Santa that ends with him being dead or anything in between... 

I wish you and yours the Merriest of Yuletides and the Happiest of New Years.

ING
!jen