For Adults Only - Grown-Up Stuff Revealed

It's not that I'm thinking that some of you are gathering your children and reading my little blog together, though it could happen. I'm always calling my boys to the computer to check out something of interest over on Pioneer Woman's ranch. I'm just saying, make sure the kiddies are in the other room - I don't want to be the one giving them this adult information.

Today's topic is...

Santa.

Well what did you think it was about? Sheesh.

I don't remember anything terribly remarkable about when I "found out", - though it was a surprise. I wasn't so old that I had my own inklings of what the truth was. I wasn't scarred or angry, and I didn't discover my parents putting out gifts or anything like that. I think the information was just passed on very matter-of-factly by my parents. I accepted that little turn of events and went on with my life. No big deal.

So why has it seemed like such a big deal to let my own kids know what's really going down on Christmas Eve?

For starters, we've done the whole Santa thing wrong. Santa brings the majority of the gifts, the coolest gifts, the gifts that we told the boys we couldn't afford. Santa has been responsible for all the fabulous Christmas mornings. If I had to do it again, I would have Santa bring one gift and have the kids know that the rest came from Mom and Dad. Face it, I want at least some of the credit. Plus, the kids thought that Santa, in his magical glory, could bring anything, resulting in wish lists that were endless.

Now don't get me wrong, I have loved watching my kids suck up the magic of Santa Claus. We've taken them to sit on his lap for pictures, set out the cookies and milk, bought real carrots for the reindeer (as opposed to the carved baby carrot things that I usually buy), and done all we could to perpetuate their belief in Kris Kringle. I've also threatened to "call Santa and just let him know" how the boys have been acting.

I've nurtured this belief, the idea of Santa. I've made him as real as possible. How do you take that away?


Actually, Cameron is (finally) among the non-believers. He's almost 11, so it's about time. Two years ago, when most of his friends and classmates were having reality Christmases, Cam was still steadfast in his beliefs. And who could blame him - Santa had been bringing a major haul for as long as he could remember - I'd keep believing too. It was around this time that I was feeling like my kids were just a touch on the greedy side, and I was wanting to be done with Santa - at least with Cameron.

We were in the toy section at Walmart, and Cameron looked around and commented that everything he had put on his list for Santa could be bought right there. The whole busy elf scenario flickered through his brain.

I got down on his level, gently gripped his shoulders and said,

"Think about it, Cameron."

But he chose not to, and instead, kept right on believing. Aaarrrghh.

His true moment of clarity came a few months ago when he saw me cleaning out my dresser drawer. There, sitting on my bed, was a small pile of teeth that supposedly had been collected by the Tooth Fairy. Cameron looked at the teeth, looked at me, grinned from ear to ear, and said,

"You little liar. You. Little. Liar!"

We laughed together, hugged a bit, and then I asked,

"So if the Tooth Fairy isn't real...can you think of somebody else that isn't real?" I was trying to be very clear.

"Santa?" he said, still grinning.

And then he admitted that he'd been pretty sure Santa wasn't real for a while. How long had he been on to us? I swore him to secrecy as far as Aaron was concerned and he was all for that. His only two questions were if he could help lay out the gifts, and (of course) would he still get the same number of presents. Yes. Yes.

So for this year at least, Aaron remains a believer. Cameron is wickedly pleased to be in on this adult knowledge. Everyone's happy.

How did you find out about Santa?
How did you tell your kids?