Ms. Claus

Tonight, many children will go to sleep with dreams of sugar plums dancing in their heads. They'll wake up tomorrow morning with one thought: Did Santa Claus come?

At my house, this meant kicking off the covers well before dawn to see if Santa had left our now-filled stockings at the foot of the bed. My parents had a rule: You didn't wake them up until dawn.

So, my brother sat crouched at the window, waiting for the first hints of Christmas morning light. Meanwhile, I'd inspect the house for evidence of Santa. The cookies were gone, with a note in shaky Santa handwriting, the presents were under the tree, and I could swear that I heard jingle bells on the roof late the night before.

Yet in all this magical mystery, I never once thought about what Mrs. Claus was doing on Christmas. We never left her cookies or sat on her lap, asking her for presents. (OK, my gender-inclusive mother did always make sure that a good majority of our presents were signed "From Mrs. Claus," but we still assumed that Santa was the one who actually brought them. In fact, we suspected that he signed her name sometimes just to make her feel better.)

I suppose I figured that Mrs. Claus just stayed home with the kids...er...elves on Christmas Eve like a good housewife. But now I feel bad for Mrs. Claus. I mean, for goodness sake, she doesn't even have a first name!

Instead, we know her only by her prefix, "Mrs.," which essentially defines her by her marriage to Santa. Mrs. Claus is the perfect example for why many women today choose the prefix "Ms." instead.

Popularized by Ms. Magazine in the seventies, this term does not reveal marital status. Many women (including me) find it important to be defined by more than whether or not they've been hitched. Men do it all the time. Can you tell if a "Mr." has been wed without looking at his ring finger? Nope. Then why should women be any different?

My younger cousins, Hannah and Chelsea, have a grade school teacher who goes by "Ms." On the first day of school, she explained to them that she uses "Ms." in order to be "mysterious." Hannah and Chelsea think this is hilarious, but intriguing. It's a great explanation, one that opened up discussion with them about women's prefixes. They were particularly fascinated when I told them that I, too, was a "mysterious Ms."

For far too long, women have been defined by their husbands, the way Mrs. Claus is only defined by being married to the jolly guy in the big red suit. Don't believe me? Do a quick search on Google Video for "Mrs. Claus," and you'll find videos that further epitomize the gendered stereotypes for a married woman.

She's either slut:

Or nag:

But this year, I have a new vision for Mrs. Claus. My Christmas wish is that she drop the "Mrs." prefix for the "mysterious Ms." Who knows what possibilities she'll find for herself? Maybe she'll realize that the red fuzzy outfit just isn't for her, and she'll swap it for a more sensible Anne Taylor pant suit. Maybe she'll take up snowboarding or ice-fishing. Maybe she'll revamp the workshop, using the skills she learned when earning her MBA ten years ago. Maybe she'll go back to school.

Embracing the term "Ms." does not mean turning one's back on one's spouse. I imagine Ms. Claus will still pack Santa a lunch for his long Christmas Eve journey (sans cookies, of course...those will be provided on the way). She'll wait for him eagerly on Christmas morning, maybe wearing some skimpy lingerie under her North Pole robe.

But he'll do the same for her -- make her dinner after her late night of classes, tidy up the workshop before she gets home from a long day of ice-fishing, and cuddle with her in front of the fire.

The term "Ms." offers them the opportunity to define their roles, instead of letting their roles be defined for them. So this Christmas, let's accept the opportunity to freely express ourselves in relationships, embracing the "Ms.-tery" of the season.