13 things I miss now that my children no longer believe in Sinterklaas

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It seemed so attractive, once, the time when the children of Kek Mama’s Jorinde would no longer believe in Sinterklaas. Now that she more or less skips the party for the first time this year, she suddenly misses everything about that time.

“Saint Nicholas? No way mom, that’s for babies.” Youngest son, exactly one day ten, puts his hands on his hips and looks at me firmly. “It’s not that I don’t need presents, is it? But they can also just be used for Christmas, right? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at his statement. They are efficient, I have to give them that. Why not just condense all that party pressure, if the yield is the same?

I once counted down the years until I no longer had to. Just keep track of it, in terms of planning and finances, Sinterklaas, a birthday child and Christmas – all within four weeks. But now that his brother and he prefer to hang the good saint from the willows, hoping for a Christmas of American proportion (“with those candy canes in the tree and stuff, and then a mountain of presents underneath”), I just don’t know Lake. Because I will miss a lot.

Read also: Honest about Sinterklaas: “It’s a nonsense story and we raise children with it”

13x I miss this now that my children no longer believe in Sinterklaas

1. Those faces full of expectation, for example, with red blush under a pete cap. That pure faith and trust. Which almost made you believe in Sinterklaas again, even though you also realized that the guy in his tabard was just the postman from three blocks away. And that the gingerbread cookies that your bloods excitedly collected in their mittens, hoods and pockets were a source of bacteria you didn’t even want to know the name of.
2. That for two consecutive weeks a year their toys were cleaned up, all vegetables eaten clean every night (yes, even the endive) and their rooms were silent after half past seven (half past seven!) in the evening without exception. Because they were sure that they just saw a Pietje, on the roof across the street – surely I had seen him myself? And that, if they unexpectedly didn’t listen, I threw in a fake phone call with Sinterklaas, after which they not only ate their offer like lapdogs, but also brought it to the kitchen without prompting.
3. And as long as the Sinterklaas news was broadcast, no one beat each other’s brains while cooking.
4. That year after year I secretly fished the phonetically spelled wish lists out of their shoes, and put them away in folders with a smile from ear to ear. Almost crying for the “I would like a sjokolade letter because then you might also have enough gelt for the poor children”.
5. And that those children’s shoes placed by the fireplace, singing loudly, were almost as serene a picture as those sleeping boys themselves – completely relaxed under their duvets, from which a shoe size 37 dangles unsuspectingly from under the covers.
6. That they really never noticed that the carrot for the horse was simply recycled for five shoe sets – and then disappeared into the pea soup.
7. And new socks (okay, really nice ones) suddenly became the epitome of coolness when they found them as a gift in their shoe – to keep the disposable junk from the local prize hit a little more contained.
8. That the spice nuts I sprinkled around their filled shoes in pure innocence, were invariably eaten by the dog two minutes later.
9. Having children of Sinterklaas age meant that I was still a young mother myself. And now that whole era has come to an end, which also means that I will only experience it again as a grandmother. Oma, yes.
10. That buying that ridiculous amount of December presents was the height of stress, but also the perfect excuse to take a breather with my love with oysters and prosecco, at the last free café table in town, on Saturday afternoon.
11. And I’m sure I’m really going to forget the full lyrics of ′′ See the moon shines through the trees ′′ now, until I have grandchildren. But instead suddenly knows everything about vloggers and YouTubers.
12. But damn still haven’t finished crafting those smallpox surprises, thanks to school.
13. So they can put their shoe on one more time. Then the three of us on the couch watch ‘Bennie Stout’, the ginger nuts within reach. Very cool, if you are ten and twelve, but know that the Pieten are not watching.

This article previously appeared on Kekmama.nl

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