My daughter was not just a Santa enthusiast, no, she was a Santa extremist. She truly believed in the magic of Santa, that he could bring her ANYTHING she asked for and she was hilariously willing to believe all the “flying around the world going down chimney stuff” from the movies. This was funny/cute when she was little, but as her fantasy wish list grew to things that cost thousands of dollars, we were getting ready for her to know the truth. We were battling about what Santa can and can’t bring way too often and then last year she was disappointed on Christmas morning that he didn’t build her the gymnastics gym that she asked for (that we told her repeatedly he couldn’t do). I also genuinely felt bad for her – she really thought he could do that! Brian and I both hoped this was the last year. Charlie had found out two years before – he straight up asked, realizing that the “facts” were impossible. We told him his hypothesis was right and he moved on to be part of the magic for Elliot, which he loved. But Elliot was simply not willing to consider that Santa wasn’t this Christmas God who could deliver whatever she asked for. Her love for him was so extreme, adorable, and very fated to not end well.
Brian and I both agreed early on that we wouldn’t lie to them re: Santa (no judgment if you took a different path). As the fourth child in a Mormon household, Santa wasn’t a thing by the time I came around (Jesus was more of the focus). I don’t have nostalgia for Santa magic, but we wanted our kids to. It’s a rite of passage! Whenever our kids asked us if Santa was real (starting at 5), we deflected with the “Well, I sure hope so” or “What do you think???” When Charlie asked the last time (at 8) we could tell he already knew and he needed his parents to affirm his logical thinking. It was easy and we didn’t regret it. I knew that Elliot might take it harder, but I didn’t predict what would happen.
So we started letting things slip a bit, getting a little sloppy on purpose. They found the Easter candy bags the day before Easter and she discovered her tooth fairy notes in our nightstands. Little clues in hopes of her figuring it out on her own. It’s not like I wanted to tell her and strip her of her innocence, but the battle was exhausting and it just felt like she was old enough anyway. I didn’t need Santa to love Christmas, would it really matter?
In August we were snuggling in bed and she must have been thinking about Christmas (a real enthusiast, like her mama) and she turned to me and asked, “Mama, are you and Daddy pretending to be Santa? Is Santa real?” I deflected at first – “Why are you asking right now? I mean, how could we bring all the toys for everyone in the world,” etc. But she pushed one more time, “Mama, seriously are you and Daddy the ones actually giving us gifts from Santa?” So I did it. It was a split-second decision that I didn’t discuss with Brian but again, we had both agreed that another Christmas of her asking for a $2k tumble track and then being disappointed that she didn’t get it was not ideal. So with a wink and a whisper, I said, “Girl, you figured it out! Now you get to be part of it!” She smiled at first, probably feeling clever.
She came down a 1/2 hour later, besides herself bawling. It all fell into place (which is common) – The Tooth Fairy? The Easter Bunny? The one time during Covid we leaned hard into St. Patrick’s Day with green poop in the toilet bowls?? She asked question after question, crying, and genuinely angry – so sad and sooooooo betrayed. We were both crying – I felt TERRIBLE and all of a sudden Brian questioned what I did, placing a tiny bit of blame on me, even though we both had agreed on the plan!!! Mother of the year over here.
For the next three months, aka “Our Santa Grieving Period”, she brought it up 2-3 times a week. In the car. Before bed. While watching a movie. Legitimate tears. She’d lament out of nowhere, “There is no joy in Christmas now”. Other times she was actually mad, accusing “Why do all the grownups lie to all us kids??? How is that OK???” Of course we talked through how she gets to be part of the magic, blah, blah, but none of her friends know the truth yet so she actually just feels really burdened with this HUGE LIE that they are victimized by, too! It’s very existential to her – and she is TOTALLY RIGHT. She says over and over that she is glad that I didn’t lie to her face (I have apologized profusely for the egregious societal lie). We’ve both cried about it – me feeling terrible that I ruined her sense of wonder and innocence around what was our favorite holiday and her grieving the passing of Santa Claus, a jolly soul that she genuinely loved the idea of.
I’ve thought a lot about what I would do differently. I’m glad I didn’t lie to her (and she might be even more angry with me in 2 years if I did). She was thinking critically and asking me, her trusted caretaker, a really serious question. I just wish I had deflected and evaded the truth for one more year. Why didn’t I pretend I had a bathroom emergency and then come back with a new topic? Just one more year might have made the difference as her friends (in 3rd grade) will likely find out soon and she wouldn’t have to carry this secret for too long.
A couple of weeks ago she told me that she is still looking forward to Christmas, excited even. I almost cried in relief. I asked her if she has always had a really fun Christmas and she said “YES!!” so enthusiastically. I reminded her that it was always us, always about family, and will continue to be us – “we got you, I promise!” And in case you think we are all monsters, of course, we talk about the real reason for the season, how it’s not just about presents for us, the spirit of giving, helping others, etc. But listen, they are kids and Christmas is a lot about presents at their age. So I’m trying to just validate the feelings and move on to creating magic in other ways instead of lecturing about privilege (which we all know doesn’t work, thanks Dr. Becky).
I know that I’ll laugh at myself later for feeling so badly about this, I know that in the scheme of things this is nothing and she won’t be scarred forever. But if I had to do it again I wish I had simply deflected (not lied) and evaded the full truth for one more year.
I’m pretty sure this is one of those dumb topics that works us all up – I know many parents who kept the lie up til high school, most where the kids never asked and it just faded away (my dream scenario), and ultimately it’s not a huge deal. But I was really, really sad for a while that I had stolen her sense of wonder around the holidays and now I have to/get to create it in other ways (you don’t have to ask me twice!!). Hopefully hearing another perspective can be helpful if you have younger kids and are managing this precarious Santa situation. xx
Opening Image Credits: Kaitlin Green | From: The OFFICIAL First Farmhouse Christmas! (+ A Great Ribbon Hack And My Dream Color Palette)
THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED HERE.
