It is Christmas Eve, 2009. My darling four year old, EG, has not been much of a darling this morning. On the phone with a friend who was overhearing her vitriolic behavior toward her older sibling, I was advised to invoke the power of Santa Clause - who is watching her every move. Good advice, ADG; however, as an overly conscientious clinical psychologist mother, I'd already ruined this possibility.
You see, early in the month, EG informed me she did not care about Santa; she did not like the idea of him seeing her when she is sleeping, and so forth. So, worried about her feeling stalked and the possible long term consequences, I wrote an email to Santa rescinding the de facto consent to monitor youngest daughter; describing that said daughter is aware this may impact the accuracy of gifts delivered and has accepted the risks, clearly indicating that civil liberties matter more to her than material goods.
So the Santa threats were a no-go. Instead, I tied her up with tree lights with a few gifts she could have once she figured her way out of her predicament.
Now, I'm off to bake cookies - Rum Thumbprints - with an emphasis on the Rum.