I remember as a little girl, listening to my heart with a stethoscope then announcing that I wanted to be a doctor. My grandmother paused and said, “Well. . .I guess these days girls can do anything boys can”. I remember thinking, “Of course they can!”

 That’s why I feel lucky I have a daughter. Girls can go to medical school or beauty school, wear pants or dresses, and choose whether to work or be stay-at-home moms, without (too much) societal judgment. So when my daughter came home from school and informed me that only boys can play soccer, I told her that wasn’t true. I encouraged her to join the boys on the soccer field during recess if she wanted to. And she did. I was so proud.

                  But last spring my five-year-old daughter challenged my can-do attitude. This was a request I had never anticipated from a little girl who enjoyed ballet and pretending to be a princess. She asked if she could learn karate.

                  Teaching children—girls or boys--to hit and kick didn’t sound like a good idea to me. Instead of saying that, I asked her where she heard about karate. “Sesame Street,” she said. (That darned PBS! I’d trusted them.) “Why do you want to learn karate?” I asked. “Because it looks like dancing.” I assured her it wasn’t at all like dancing and waited for her to forget about it. She didn’t. Almost daily she asked if she could learn karate. Eventually, I called about an introductory lesson.

                  Once at the local tae kwon do studio, I felt conflicted. The instructor wasn’t what I expected—a black belt with red toenails. Talk about busting gender stereotypes--the owner was a woman! (I admit I kind of liked that.) The teacher told my daughter when she enters the studio, she should bow and greet the instructors with “Hi, ma’am. Hi, sir.” The instructor also said it’s important to listen and respect one’s parents. (OK so far. . .)

                  But when the instructor asked what my daughter would do if a stranger grabbed her arm, my stomach clenched. I didn’t want my little girl to fear strangers. I didn’t want to squash her naturally outgoing personality and I didn’t want her to grow up afraid. Yet, heaven forbid she should need to, I did want her to be able to defend herself.

                  On the ride home, we discussed whether our family wanted to add tae kwon do to our schedule. In between “Hi-ya!” yells, my daughter said she definitely wanted to try it. Overall, I was impressed with the program, but still couldn’t wrap my mind around my daughter learning to fight. My husband, however, said since girls are smaller than boys, it made sense for them to learn how to outsmart an attacker. I still wasn’t anxious to start something in which I figured she would quickly lose interest. After all, I’m pretty sure she’s the only kid to ever learn martial arts because they like to dance.

                  When I parked the car in our garage, I told my daughter to clean out the trash in the backseat. “Aww, Mom,” she protested. I headed for the mailbox. Half way down the driveway, I heard her yell, “Yes, ma’am!” I turned around and saw her smiling at me.

                  I was sold.

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Have you noticed that Santa is everywhere these days? Not only is he at the mall, but he’s at the bookstore, the donut shop and the appliance store. Seriously? Santa’s hocking refrigerators? It’s too much.

I was mortified to realize that one year my daughter sat on Santa’s lap four times: 1) story hour at the hospital 2) a Christmas party at a friend’s house 3) an office party with her grandma 4) a visit to her preschool. By the time Santa stopped by her classroom and asked her what she wanted, she looked confused and replied, “You already gave it to me.” That’s when I decided we needed to avoid Santa the same way we avoided Aunt Rose’s fruitcake.

How are children supposed to believe in the magic of Christmas when every man with a white beard claims to live at the North Pole? Personally, I wish Mr. Claus would return home to help the elves--leaving more to children’s imaginations.

I much prefer hearing stories of real-life “Santas” like the anonymous woman in an Indianapolis KMart who recently paid off over 50 people's layaways. Or Sal Dimiceli from Wisconsin whose childhood was filled with hunger, evictions and shame. As an adult, he became a millionaire. But he never forgot what it was like to be poor. For the last twenty years, he has given most of his money away. He helps pay electric bills, fix heaters and provide housing to struggling families. “We have to love one another and take care of each other,” he says. That is what Christmas is all about.

It’s such a short window when kids believe in the magic of Santa. Let my family have these moments, please. Focus on the generosity of real people and leave Mr. Claus out of sight. Besides, anyone who has watched “Miracle on 34th Street” knows the real Kris Kringle works at Macy’s in New York. That’s a long way from Indiana. And that’s just fine with me.

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PLEASE SHARE YOUR STORY ABOUT A REAL-LIFE “SANTA”:

If you’ve got a strong-willed child like I do you’ve probably thrown your hands in the air more than once shouting, “Why bother?” Seems like no matter what you do you’re not going to change them.

I have a twelve-year-old daughter that’s already planning for her debut in the corporate world. She has a master plan and nothing’s going to stop her; not even my requests to take out the trash. She’s a straight A student, and the model classroom attendant. But as soon as she walks through that door it’s on! We are in constant tug-of-war mode to each get what we want. And I’m not just talking about listening, following the rules, etc. I’m talking personality traits, views, morals. I want her to see things the way I do. To care about others, to make a contribution. I know what you’re thinking. She’s just a child, right? Yes that’s true, but her desire and determination to get exactly what she wants without regard to those she’s trampled on along the way leaves me visualizing a future cut-throat, corporate attorney…or Courtney Love.

Then one day I was watching a biography piece on Angelina Jolie. It covered her early life experiences with men, drugs and pure rebellion. She suffered bouts of depression and began cutting herself. Then there were the tattoos and the controversial marriage to Billy Bob Thornton. Her life couldn’t have been further from the loving humanitarian mother that raised her. It was not until Jolie was almost 30 years old that she transformed into a devoted mother and philanthropist. She left behind the wild side and took her place in a family and as an advocate for those that couldn’t speak for themselves.  About her mother she was recently quoted on CBS saying “I will never be as good a mother as she was. She was just grace incarnate. She was the most generous, loving – she's better than me.”

I have to believe that somewhere inside her that influence from her mother was always there, just waiting to surface. Everything we say and do, all of our actions and reactions are taken in by our children. It’s all in there and though it may take a while to show up, I’m confident when the time is right it will make an appearance. At least that’s what I’m banking on with my own children.

Guest blog by Lia Fairchild. Lia Fairchild is a writer and the author of the novel, In Search of Lucy, and the new mystery series, A Hint of Murder. Look for more on her at http://www.liafairchild.com/  or http://www.ahintofmurder.blogspot.com 

YOUR TURN TO COMMENT: How old were you when you really listened to your parents' advice?