I only have energy-sucking electric heaters, not central air. So I have to heat every room individually. In order to try and save costs, I was only heating the room I was actually in-- usually my bedroom. Screw those other rooms. I hate those rooms.Quoting Dukefrukem (view post)
But it's been brought to my attention that is not safe, because in-house things like pipes and toilet bowls and things are not meant to be kept at freezing temperatures.
...and the milk's in me.
Gotcha. So your home doesn't even have radiators? How was the place originally built?
Blah blah blah, I'm a cheapskate.
...and the milk's in me.
The house was built in 1920, and I have no idea how they heated it at that time. (In fact, I'm pretty sure that when the house was built it didn't have a bathtub. At least, there was nowhere for it to go. The full bathroom was an addition in the 90's.)
The house was renovated about fifteen years ago but they didn't add ductwork. There's no furnace or central air. Instead, they installed baseboard heaters, which are pretty much like convection space-heaters. They can get very hot, but they're inefficient because they run on electricity instead of gas. I don't want to use them, but I guess I have to.
...and the milk's in me.
Yeh electric baseboard heaters are a pain. Had that at my last house.
Just stay warm.
First houses, amirite? You make concessions.
...and the milk's in me.
Subject: Veracity of Santa Claus
Do we advocate lying to children about Santa? Why or why not?
...and the milk's in me.
I think I will kip off work for a bit to check out the memorial at Strawberry Fields this morning.
Movie Theater Diary
You're not "lying" to them. They're kids. Its fun for them.
This is the way I was raised, and I had fun with it. And everyone hates Those Kids who sit in class and tell everyone else that there is no Santa.
But the older I get, the less comfortable I am with the precedent. "There is magic and goodness in the world! Haha, just kidding."
...and the milk's in me.
Yeh but the kids who are the first to find out usually don't find out until later anyway. There's still some solid years in there.
I never believed in Santa. Did I miss out?
Movie Theater Diary
I loved believing in Santa Claus as a kid. I loved the idea that there was this candyland type place up at the top of the world containing this operation whose sole purpose it was to get to me that Godzilla doll, that AT-AT, that Cobra HISS Tank that I had so meticulously asked for in a letter, and was waiting waiting waiting to get, counting the days of Advent, until Christmas.
And later on, when I did find out that there was no Santa, it was fun being in on the secret, watching my brother get just as excited as I used to get (of course being in on the secret means you get the gift from Santa Claus too). There was no heartbreak, no lasting damage. Just a shrug and on we went.
Now I have kids of my own, and I see how excited they get thinking about, dreaming about, anticipating about what's gonna be in a bag sitting in front of the fireplace on Christmas morning, that sparkle in their eyes, it takes me back to when I was five when I knew there was magic in the world.
Losing is like fertilizer: it stinks for a while, then you get used to it. (Tony, Hibbing)
Well, that's a good point. I loved playing Santa for my siblings.
...and the milk's in me.
I knew a kid that could not be weaned off his pacifier when he was about three, and finally his parents told him that Santa's reindeer were going to take his "binkies" back the the North Pole in exchange for all his Christmas presents.
AND IT WORKED.
...and the milk's in me.
Some people get really into it, though. One of my good friend's stepmother had her children believing in "The Christmas Mouse" in addition to Santa, and he left tiny presents in the bed. ("So I had to believe in the Christmas mouse when I visited my dad. And, her kids believed it until they were, like, twelve.")
And then my fundamentalist cousins get presents from "Baby Jesus" in addition to Santa Claus, which I just find offensive and creepy on so many levels.
Also creepy: adults who fixate on Santa. I had a roommate that tried to get me to get a picture on Santa's lap when I was 28 years old. She was bafffled that I didn't want to sit on the lap of a man I didn't know and have my photo taken. Same roommate had a "I KISSED SANTA" t-shirt that she wore year-round.
...and the milk's in me.
I don't remember there being any disappointment either. I think it's because that even the kids that DID find out first, who were spreading the rumors that Santa didn't exist, were still a little hesitant to believe it themselves. At that age, no one is very convincing.
I do remember some of my friends crying when they found out tho. So I guess it could go both ways.
There is magic and goodness in the world. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it. Kids have an easier time seeing it, and I think adults could benefit from the lack of cynicism and an unlimited imagination. I'll always be a dreamer and a believer. If I'm delusional, so what - it makes my life more fun.
If you catch a midget and hold them over your waist, you'll have good luck for the next year.
I believe in goodness, not magic.
I think my only problem with letting kids believe in Santa is that it leads them to believe that Santa saves the good gifts for all the rich kids. My heart breaks to think about a kid who goes up to his laid-off dad and ask if he's been a bad boy because Santa didn't bring him toys this year.
Movie Theater Diary
That's my goal for 2011.
This is something I've thought about a lot. Finding out Santa wasn't real took an emotional toll on me; I cried. I think I'd be inclined to not any children of mine that Santa is real, because lying to my own kids just sounds awful.
I think this is more of a problem with the way we celebrate Christmas in general than it is a problem with the telling of myths, legends, and fairytales to kids.
If I had kids, I'd probably celebrate Christmas in a much different way than I did with I was a kid. I'd probably try to make it a time during which we would go out and help at soup kitchens and care for those who were more unfortunate - turn into a season during which we give thanks for what we have, and not ask for more.
Bah, Humbug.
No offense, but that sounds like a very unfun Christmas for your kids.
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