santaland

Their tag line is no joke -- Macy's really is magical, and especially so during the Christmas season at the NYC flagship store. I took the boys this morning to the 8th floor Santaland to visit Mr. Claus himself and everything, from the make believe train ride to the North Pole and the toy-filled tour of Santa's neighborhood, to the most authentic Santa Claus I've ever seen, was absolutely enchanting. (And I especially loved the fact that, because it was a Tuesday morning with wind chills in the single digits, we were in and out in about a half an hour -- it takes magic of a very special kind to make a line move that fast in New York.)

Last year Garrett freaked out when it was his turn to sit on Santa's lap, so this year we practiced. Our role plays paid off: Garrett willingly climbed up on his knee, and, when prompted, told Santa his name. "I'm Garrett," he said (though when he says it, it sounds more like I Gahyett). When Santa asked him what he wanted for Christmas, he confidently told him "toy tools," which was perfect because that is a gift I know Santa will be bringing. Their entire exchange was pretty adorable, and I wish it could have lasted longer.



Caleb, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with that strange bearded man in the red coat. The second he was placed on his knee, he worked hard to wiggle away, which was right on par with what I expected him to do. Santa kept saying things like, "Hurry and take the picture -- he's getting away!" He never cried, but he definitely started to panic.


So apparently the magic isn't perfect, but perfection isn't a requirement for a delightfully good time. A Christmastime visit to Santaland is becoming a tradition I'm discovering I can really get excited about (especially if it's on a bitterly cold short-line-creating Tuesday morning).