Santa Claus

So I know some people are going to really not agree with me here (Shelli) but I don't like telling my kids that there is a guy named Santa Claus.  It has bothered me ever since the oldest ones were small. I just don't know what the guy adds to Christmas.  I think Christmas can be fun and exciting without him.  I admit I was super excited about him coming when I was younger.  But I am starting to think that it was mostly just the presents I was excited about and that the delivery method wasn't that important.  I don't know for sure, but I think that had I known the presents came from my parents, I still would have been excited.  I may have even been more amazed come Christmas morning.  I mean we lived a pretty poor childhood (as far as money goes; I suppose you could say it was rich in other ways), but somehow on Christmas my mom always seemed to pull off the biggest feats of magic.  We always got what we asked for.  Or at least a reasonable part of what we asked for.  The main thing we wanted was always there.  We may have had to wear shoes with holes in them and get all our clothes from thoughtful neighbors because there was no money, but somehow on Christmas my mom always came through.  And Santa Claus got all the credit.  And she loved it that way.  But I just don't get it.  I don't mean to say she should have wanted to hog the glory for those wonderful Christmas mornings, but I think I would have been even more amazed if I had known it came from her.  And Christmas would have seemed even more magical.  I think one of the main reasons I believed in Santa for so long was because we were so poor all the time and I knew there was no way my parents could have given me what I got for Christmas.  And that never let me fully appreciate what I got for Christmas.  I was generally excited about what I got, but if something broke, it was no big deal.  I mean, it wasn't like someone had to pay for it.  Some fat man and his elves could just make up another one with their magic supplies of natural resources and callused hands.

Santa Claus was a big part our life when I was a kid.  I mean my brother Adam wanted to be Santa when he grew up for much longer than most kids play with that idea.  And my mom just loved the idea of Santa Claus.  She would go out of her way to prove to us year after year that he was real.  She would make up elaborate yet somehow believable stories to convince us if we ever started to doubt.  We would try to put our letters to Santa in the mailbox without her knowing so that if we got what we asked for we would know once and for all that he existed.  And somehow she would always manage to get them out of the mailbox before the mailman got there.  She must have checked the mailbox every morning the whole month of December.  And she wrote back to us sometimes.  Posing as Santa Claus of course.  So I was convinced.  Did I get made fun of in school because of my continuing belief long after my classmates had stopped believing? Yes.  Yes I did.  But you know, I am a person of faith, and a Mormon at that, and I was used to believing in things that other people thought were silly, so their ridicule never bothered me.  All I ever really thought was, "you people of little faith, how can you be so unbelieving?"

I simply believed, and the one thing that clinched it all for me was that my mother told me it was true.  And because she said it was true, I believed it.  I believed pretty much everything she told me.  How was I supposed to know that she would mix truth and lies together in that same convincing voice.  I never suspected.  And to be perfectly honest, when I finally found out the truth, I was devastated.  I didn't break down crying or anything - because I was almost 13 years old at the time and by then I was way past the tearful stage - but it hurt.  I was reeling inside.  I didn't know what I could believe anymore.  It wasn't finding out that Santa Claus wasn't real that hurt, it was finding out that I no longer knew what I could believe.  I mean if this thing that my mother had spent so much time convincing me was true wasn't true, what was? What other things had my mother told me were true that were mere fabrications for her and my amusement?  I questioned everything she had ever told me.  I even questioned my faith in God, though by then I had received enough witnesses of His existence to know that questioning my faith in God wasn't necessary.

So I think, is that really what I want my kids to look back and remember?  If I tell my kids something, I want them to know it is what I believe and never have to doubt it.  They may not believe the same things as me all the time, but I don't want them wondering if I really believe the things I tell them to believe in. 

I suppose my experience with the fat man has negatively affected me and my desire to pass this "fun" tradition on to my kids.  I think there could be a happy medium between what I experienced and the other extreme of never mentioning the man to my kids.  And that is what I have tried to achieve with the kids so far.  But I fear I may have erred on the side of keeping the tradition in mind instead of keeping the truth in mind.  I have told them about Santa and that he is watching and that it was his reindeer that ate those carrots we left out.  But on the other hand when asked directly if he is real,  I usually dodge the question and say something like, "well what do you think?" 

So anyway, what does Santa Claus have to do with Christmas?  I mean, some might say he represents the spirit of Christmas or the love of children or the spirit of thoughtless giving or some other thing like that.  I don't agree.  I mean if Christmas needs some guy to represent the spirit of the season or the love of children or the spirit of thoughtless giving, why do we need someone other than Christ to fill that role? Do we really need some jolly old saint?  Sure, I think in certain doses, he might add a little zing, but for the most part I think he just distracts from what Christmas is all about.

So a few weeks ago Lila and Zoe and I were hanging out and they asked me if there really was Santa Claus and I said no.  They were somewhat surprised, I think, that I would answer so directly but it felt so good to say it.  I had been wanting to say it for years.  The kids were a bit unsure of what to think.  Zoe asked, "well who brings all those presents then?"  I told her it was me.  That I was Santa Claus.  They were really skeptical.  Lila said, "I don't believe it. How could you be Santa Claus?  There is no way you could deliver all those presents to all those kids in one night."  It is hard to argue with that kind of logic.  But I explained that I was only Santa to my own kids and that everyone else's parents were their Santa.  So after talking about it for awhile I thought it was pretty clear.  But I was wrong.  A week or two later they brought it up again and were talking about how Santa could bring then anything they wanted.  And I was being a stinker and said that I would only bring them what I wanted them to have. And they both looked confused and one of them said, "but I thought you said you weren't Santa Claus."  Now it was my turn to look confused.  I just don't know where the confusion came in.  How could I have been more clear than, "Santa Claus is not real.  I bring you the presents."?  But apparently after our conversation they had had their own conversation and decided I was just messing with them.  So I had to assure them one more time that it was me.  So I think they now know that there is no Santa Claus.  And I hope they let the other smaller kids know about soon too.  Leisel won't be hard to convince.  Last year she told me that she didn't believe and that she thought it was me.  She is a smart girl.

I have told my kids to not mention it to others outside of our family and to definitely not make fun of anyone else that still believes, so hopefully that will happen.  But if you haven't told your own kids, this year is a good one to do it in.  May as well get it over with and stop all the deception.  Let's find out how fun Christmas can really be without all the lies.  That is what I am hoping will happen anyway.  I guess I have either ruined it for them for the rest of their childhood or not.  But I don't think I have.  I am convinced they will still enjoy Christmas without Santa.  I guess I will know in a couple months.