Kate’s Escapades – I Believe in Santa Claus

I’ve always known that this dreaded day would come . In fact, it’s been 25 years in the making. I had hoped to stretch  it out one more year, but alas, it’s not to be. And let me tell you, I am heartbroken.  Much more heartbroken, it seems, than my son is.

(Note to reader…if you have a small child lurking over your shoulder, who happens to be able to read, please send them off to frolic and play before you read further, unless you’d like the dreaded day to come before you’re prepared for it, like it has for me.)

The youngest of my seven kids now “knows”. I’ve seen it coming all through the year.  First the Easter Bunny fell by the wayside. (Isn’t he always the first to go? Really though, a bunny? A BUNNY? It’s amazing we can pull that one off at all.) And then my son started questioning me about the mischievous little leprechauns that had once again escaped his carefully built trap the previous month.  Next came the trusty tooth fairy.  And through all of this discovery,  he thankfully refrained from asking about the “Big Guy”, mostly because I think he didn’t really want to know.

But curiosity gets the best of us all I suppose, even 9 year old boys. So it was with much reluctance on his part, and much more reluctance on my part, that my son recently took me into his room and closed the door for a talk. I knew it was going to be the talk that would change his life, and mine as well. I was prepared for it, and had rehearsed the  “If you don’t believe, you don’t receive” talk over in my head.

He gave me a serious, pleading look and said, “Mom, we need to talk about Santa.’

Feigning ignorance, I said innocently, “OK honey, what about Santa?”

“Mom, I want you to tell me the truth. If you lie to me about Santa right now,  I’m going to be madder at you than if you tell me the truth and later I find out Santa isn’t real,” he said through gritted teeth to emphasize seriousness of the matter, I suppose.

Now I ask you, how was I supposed to respond to a statement like that? My head was spinning through possible responses, as I fidgeted and stalled for time. How could I possibly do anything but tell the truth? So I did what I’ve done with the six previous kids, when it became apparent that the Santa gig was up for them. I told him about the legend of the original Dutch Sint Nikolass, (Saint Nicholas, to us) and his acts of kindness. I told him that over the years, the Spirit of St. Nicholas has been passed on to parents the world over, to carry on his tradition.

He giggled and shouted, “I knew it! I knew you were Santa!” without even a hint of disappointment or sadness. It was me who was fighting back the tears, and not winning the battle.

I was heartbroken to the very core.  My very last kid now knew about Santa. I live for the magic of Christmas. I live for the magic of Santa. For cookies and milk, and carrots for the reindeer on Christmas Eve. For sneaking presents out in the middle of the night. For watching Christmas movies with the kids. For filling stockings with unusual candies that only Santa could leave.  For saying, “Was that an elf I just saw?”  For wrapping Santa’s presents with special Santa paper and using special Santa handwriting on the tags. For the note Santa always leaves for the kids thanking them for being such great kids.

And do you know why?  It’s because I still believe in Santa!

Deep down to the depths of my soul.

So I’ve decided for as long there’s at least one person in my house who still believes (meaning me) , then every single Santa tradition that we’ve celebrated over the years, will continue.  The kids just shake their heads at me and think I’m silly, but I know that secretly they love it, and soon they will realize that they still believe in Santa too.

~Kate

Do you have an interesting story about how your kids found out about Santa? Leave a comment below and tell us about it.

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