After two previous attempts, we have officially dedicated ourselves and our holiday weekend to Max's potty training. So far, so good, I will say. We kicked off on Sunday morning with a potty party where Max opened a big bag of peanut M&Ms, big boy underpants, and a Potty Bag full of goodies (stickers, Matchbox cars, face masks, lollies, etc). The deal is: peepee in the potty earns Max an M&M, and poopoo earns him a toy from the Potty Bag. Both have been good motivators, but I had no idea how much so until yesterday. Max spotted a helicopter in his Potty Bag and talked nonstop about the "hopdoctor" all morning. Giving it his best effort, Max sat on the potty several times before he finally committed to it. I don't think I have ever seen a two year old work quite so hard for something! 25 minutes later, Max came running into the kitchen (I had given up by then) shouting "Poopoo! Hopdoctor! Poopoo Hopdoctor!" That was the best $.90 I have ever spent.
As Max grows a little wiser in his two and a half years, Brad and I have debated exactly what to tell him about Santa. To believe or not believe, that is the question. Although it makes us seem a scrooge, I did not believe as a child, and yet Christmas remains one of the most magical times of the year for me. My mother was convinced that, without exception, honesty was always the best policy. No Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, or Santa Claus, but what fun to pretend! I loved her philosophy as a child and now even more so as a mother. So, as the season approached, and Santa's face began to appear at every turn, we sat Max down to explain the Christmas stories and traditions. After reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, we told Max that long ago a real man, then called St. Nicholas, did very nice and helpful things for children and their families. St. Nicholas is now in heaven, but we still remember him and pretend that "Santa," who lives at a magical place called the North Pole, visits good boys and girls on Christmas and brings them fun presents while they are sleeping. We discussed this truth over and over, and I thought that it prepared us for our first encounter with the jolly man himself. Santa made a local appearance at a tree lighting ceremony, and like all other families with children, we patiently waited in line for our turn to sit on his lap. Max took a liking to him immediately, and when his turn came, he crawled right up in his lap, collected his photographic evidence, and told Santa he wanted a "choo choo train" for Christmas. I knew the instant he hopped down that in his mind, Santa was as real as real could be…and how am I to argue with truth like that?!? (As you can see in the picture, Cal may be a little less difficult to convince.) 
