This morning, I came across this post over at Clover Lane.
What timing.
I've been slightly struggling for a little while now. I remember debating in some online forums about telling your children about Santa. I've done Santa with both my kids, and while sometimes it does get a little tiring having a big jolly fictional man get all the credit for our hard work - I always believed that Santa added so much magic and excitement to the holidays. I loved believing in Santa, and after I figured it out (I was maybe 8 or so) the holidays did seem to sparkle just a little less. Some people believe that it's wrong to tell your children about Santa. That you're beginning their life with lies and that it sets up trust issues in your relationship. I never, ever believed that.
But, I also didn't want to flat out lie to my children when they asked. The first time I was asked was when my oldest, Evan was 5. He heard it from a neighbor. My responses over the years have been a general sort of "well, do you think there's a Santa?" and "I believe in Santa" and "Who do you think gets all your gifts" and things along that line.
2008
About 2 months ago, Evan (who is now 11) made mention to it again. I honestly thought he had it figured out a couple of years ago, and just went along with it every year because of his younger brother and, well, just in case. But he asked me flat out not long ago and this time I didn't skirt around the issue. I didn't say No, I just didn't really give my usual answers. And wow, something in his face just shocked me. Made me sad. His words? "why did you lie to me? You lied to me."
Oh, no.
It's been a while since this conversation, and I've been meaning to sit down with him, with my husband and have the actual conversation - you know, where we admit to everything and let him in on the "secret". Where we really finalize and validate his suspicions. I mean, he is old enough to know. Most of his friends had the conversation years ago.
But I just haven't done it. There hasn't been a good time, or time away from his brother, or any time. But really, I just didn't know what to say. I've had all the answers ready, in my head I've had the conversation a thousand times since he was 5. But suddenly, I don't know how to handle it.
Earlier this week, Colin insisted, was certain there was no Santa. He's 6.
I'm not ready to lose this magic in our house.
So I was so glad to read that post this morning. What's so wrong with never really admitting to the whole scheme? Why can't I just keep on answering that I believe in Santa too? They won't believe in Santa forever, with or without us talking about it formally. They're going to grow up and grow out of Santa, just like they grew out of diapers and baby teeth and last years shoes.
So, you know, for now. I'm just going to keep on sprinkling the magic around our house. And just like when I was growing up, there will still be presents from Santa under the tree when my children are teens and even longer.
