Christmas Woes

The closer Christmas gets, the higher my blood pressure rises. 

 Coincidence…I think not! 

Every year my husband and I go through the war of getting the kids to write letters to Santa.  They ask for what they want and every year their lists get longer, more detailed, and of course more expensive.

This year, when told to write his letter, Darien responded with “Uhhh, if Santa was real shouldn’t he already know what we want, magically?”   To which I replied, “Um sure, but we just want to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.  Plus, Santa is only able to give gifts that Mommy and Daddy approve of.” 

The kids are 7 this year and will be turning 8 in January. Honestly, how much longer must we keep up with this Santa Claus charade??? Why does this morbidly obese fat man who breaks into homes get all the credit every year for OUR hard work??  Sure, it’s a nice story to believe in for a little while but what is the cut off age?

I remember when I was little, getting sent to bed on Christmas Eve, barely able to contain my excitement!  Soon, Santa would be coming down our chimney, wait, we don’t have a chimney.  How will he get in??  How has he done this in the past and more importantly, how will he succeed tonight?!?  The questions starting racking up in my brain until I could no longer help myself; I HAD to find out the truth.  Why have I never heard the clatter of reindeer hooves on the roof?  And, am I the only kid in the world creeped out by “’Twas the Night before Christmas?”

“He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!”

Eh….I was not impressed. Just creepy.

That one particular Christmas Eve as I was lying in my bed attempting to will myself to sleep, I heard it!! No, not the clatter of hooves but soft footsteps from the end of the hallway, my parents’ room!  I slid out of bed like a serpent and tip toed to my door with my parents none the wiser and slowly, silently I slid open my bedroom door.  Could it be?? Was Santa actually real?!? Would I finally catch this mystery man in the act?

No, sadly it would not be so. 

The culprits were none other than my parents, arms overflowing with gifts, whispering and shushing each other in attempt to stealthily deposit the presents under the tree. I couldn’t have been more than 7 years old, and it was at that very moment that my belief in Santa Claus ceased to exist.  I don’t remember feeling sad or even disappointed, I simply felt acceptance.  I never did tell me parents about that night.  I still, as an adult, get gifts from Santa, Mrs. Claus, and even Rudolph.  My parents are so sweet...trying to help me hold onto the innocence of childhood. J

Lately, Darien has been asking a lot of questions about the big guy in red.  They are starting to get quite technical and as a result our lies are quickly catching up with us.  Perhaps we should have written all of our excuses down.  How this child remembers a conversation from when he was 3 years old about Santa but can’t remember that I just told him to brush his teeth is beyond me.    Two years ago, after being told repeatedly that he was forbidden to go in the basement, what did he do but go into the basement. 

What to his wondering eyes should appear but all of his

 Santa Claus gifts sitting next to Brian’s beer.

(Ha!Ha!)ß-I can laugh at this now!

His 5 year old self was in absolute awe!! “WHOA!!!!! A go-kart!!! AWESOMMMMMEE!!! Mommy, there’s a Go-Kart in the basement!!!”  Yes, this happened.  I even have a Facebook post to prove it!

 Kristen Bonaparte Riggan   December 9, 2010

So...Darien just went into the basement and saw ALL of their Santa gifts....WTF are we supposed to do now??

Our lie on that particular occasion was that Santa’s workshop gets SO full around Christmastime that sometimes he has to get the parents to help with the storage.  He eyed me in unamused speculation but eventually believed me….and that was followed by a hiney spanking and getting sent to his room for going in the basement after being told not to a thousand times!! So, his Christmas surprise was ruined….luckily he never spilled the beans to Emily or that would have been a very terrible day, indeed.

So, let me hear it from you.  What age do you think kids normally stop believing in Santa?  What age do you think the plug should be pulled??   Should we just let the ornaments fall where they may or should we fight to keep our kids believing in this guy??

Thanks for reading today!!