Ho, ho, ho and a therapy bill

By Julianne Hale

My brother and I were never on equal footing when it came to the ways of the world. Despite being born three years before me, he possessed a sweet naïveté I never had. When our mother confirmed my suspicions about Santa Claus on the Christmas Eve of my second-grade year, I took it in stride. I’d been privy to the rumors about Santa’s true identity that had been circulating the halls of my elementary school for months by the time Mom decided to come clean about it, so I acknowledged this reality with the coolness of a fifth-grader. My brother, however, was blindsided. He fought against the truth. Grasping at straws, he asked our mother, “So you mean you and Dad go out on the roof and help Santa unload his sled?” It was a painstaking explanation.

Now when I recall that scene, I can’t help but question whether it was necessary to burst the bubble of my brother’s Christmas fantasy. My oldest will be 8 years old this year, and I wonder how many Christmases we have left with all three kids believing in Santa. As a parent, I dread the days when my kids have to face the reality that their presents don’t come off of a sled in the middle of the night but are, in fact, buried under some dusty quilts in the far corner of our attic.

Right now, my kids believe that Mr. Claus lives in a whimsical toy factory in the North Pole. They believe that with the same conviction that they believe the sky is blue. They don’t question it, because they’ve never considered the possibility that Santa is not real. This is one of the things I love most about kids. They live in a world where anything is possible. With harsh reality as the only alternative, I’d like to postpone their residence in the “real world” for as long as possible. But is this harming my children?

Some claim that perpetuating the Santa myth is akin to lying to your children, and that it can do long-term damage. If this is true, then we are living in a world filled with damaged adults. In his popular book, Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser documents that Santa Claus is the only fictional character more recognizable by American schoolchildren than Ronald McDonald. If there is long-term damage caused by this tradition, it must be buried deep within the psyche of just about every person we come in contact with.

Kim Muglach, mother of three, says she was damaged not by the myth itself, but by the nonchalant way in which her father chose to reveal the truth to her. She explains, “I will never forget the exact occasion that my father told me—walking through the Kroger parking lot. He said, ‘So you know Santa’s not real, right?’ I was one heartbroken little 9-year-old. I had my suspicions, but I just didn’t need to hear it.”

As a result of this traumatic experience, Kim says she won’t take the same approach with her own kids. “I don’t think parents should ever initiate the conversation,” she says.

This seems like sound advice. The Santa conversation isn’t like the sex talk; not having it won’t result in unwanted pregnancies or gonorrhea. My kids will just find out in their own time and come to me when they have questions. But these questions present a new dilemma: How do I answer my kids if they ask me outright whether or not Santa Claus is real? For help with this, I turned to my fellow moms and dads on the front lines of parenting.

“I always waited until my kids started asking questions, and then I asked them what they believed,” says Leanne Stan-Fifield, mother of three. “I also tell my kids that I still believe in Santa as I believe in the magic of Christmas.” I like the idea of preserving the magic, even though the fantasy is no longer intact.

Another mother, Desiree Dighton, says she’s never had to have “the talk” with her son. Despite his status as a tween, her son remains a believer. “Ethan knows his friends don’t believe, and he just chooses to go along with the fantasy,” she says. “Don’t we all like to pretend we still believe, at least one day a year?”

This is the approach I took as a child. I knew that Santa was not a real guy, but I embraced the fantasy and continued to enjoy the benefits of my stuffed stocking and the bounty under the tree long after I discovered the truth. Is it wrong of me to want the same for my children? Or am I a selfish parent, lying to my kids to satisfy my own need to recreate meaningful moments from my childhood?

Finally, I went straight to the source and had a little Q & A session with my oldest two about St. Nick. It went something like this:

Me: Kids, when I say “Santa Claus,” what do you think of?

Daughter (5): (raising hand) Presents.

Son (8): Christmas.

Daughter: (raising hand again) Toys.

Son: Church. (I’m pretty sure this response was just for brownie points)

Me: How long has Santa been around?

Daughter: 200 years.

Son: Forever.

Me: How does he stay around so long?

Daughter: He likes cookies.

Son: And beer.

Daughter: He gives lots of presents.

Son: And he’s magic.

There you have it. The secret to Santa’s longevity is a healthy combination of cookies, beer, charity and a little magic. Who can argue with that?

Julianne Hale, an award-winning freelance writer and mother of three, lives in Cleveland, Tenn. Read more from Julianne on her blog, AnotherGrayHair.Typepad.com.