YaYa is bumping up against the Santa Claus question. He hasn’t come out and asked me flat out if Santa is real, so I have not given him an answer. Instead he has told me that he “had a bad day.”
“It’s the Santa thing”, he said, “some kids are saying that he isn’t real, but others are saying that he is.”
“What do you think, YaYa?”
“I think that he is real.”
“It’s more fun to believe in him.”
“Yeah”
Well, that seemed to end the conversation. I was happy to have dodged THE question. That was yesterday; today there was more.
Apparently, there is a boy named Anthony who is invested in converting YaYa’s belief. He told YaYa to look at the writing of Santa’s labels and compare to Mom and Dad’s. YaYa had told him that the writing *was* different.
“Why do you think that Anthony cares so much whether you believe in Santa?”
I wanted to know. I don’t get it. Somebody ruined the magic for him, so he needs to do the same to someone else. But even thought Anthony thinks that he’ll feel better from it, he won’t.
“Would you be upset if you found out that he wasn’t real?”
I can’t believe that I was actually asking this question. He said, “Yes.” I didn’t ask any more questions after that one.
There is so much innocence in the children when they still buy into the idea of Santa Claus. I remember the excitement and delight of awaiting his arrival. I also remember when my brother, Bobby, ruined it for me.
Just like Anthony, my brother was invested in changing my mind. He followed me all they way to the bathroom and stood outside the door, with me trapped inside and unable to escape, and he convinced me that the whole Santa idea was a lie. And I was crushed.
“Christmas is more than about Santa” I said, trying to move the focus. “It’s about the gift giving too. It about giving and receiving gifts from the ones that you love…” I didn’t even get a chance to remind him about Jesus’ birth.
The light turned green and as I began driving again YaYa changed the subject. Soon we were home and the focus was on BoBo and his grades. *sigh* Motherhood sure is challenging.
You’re doing great. I managed to be the one to rob my youngest of her belief in Santa. I was sure she was over it but I was wrong. I felt like such a bad mother.
When I hit that question, I sent a letter to Santa asking him to return the post-marked envelope, so I knew he was real (you could say I wasn’t the trusting type).
My mom got the envelope stamped at the post office herself, of course, and I was convinced Santa existed (at least for another year).
We dealt with this question several years ago. When my girls were older and asked, my standard response was, “Santa exists as long as you believe he does.” They caught on and now believe Santa will dump gifts when they are in their 40s! They said as much.
I did blow it one Christmas when a gadget that Santa bought wasn’t working properly and I inadvertantly blurted out to my husband, “Where’s the bags from Best Buy that that came in?” Cover blown, but Santa still comes…because there’s a part of all children who want to believe (probably Anthony too!)