I admit it. When it comes to the holidays, I can be a bit of a Grinch. Like many of us, I suffer from a common problem: too much to do and not enough time in which to do it. Throw Christmas into my already frenzied life and things seem to go from managed chaos to out-of-control frantic before I can say bah, humbug.
It’s not that I dislike everything about the holiday season. I like spending time with family and friends. I enjoy giving to others. Everything else about Christmas, however, falls into the category of either too much or not enough. There’s too much expense and not enough money; too much work and not enough leisure; too much commercialism and not enough altruism.
If it were up to me, I’d probably refuse to play along with the Christmas status quo. I would be content to pass the holiday on a Bahamian beach with nary a gift, a tree, or even one note of Christmas music. I have kids, though, and as their mother, I feel a certain amount of responsibility for creating a magical holiday. Every year, I go through all of the motions of what are supposed to make happy Christmas memories for my family and I keep my complaints to myself.
I thought I’d done a great job of hiding my perpetual disappointment with the season until the other day when Evan came home from school.
“You’re going to be so happy, Mom,” Evan said excitedly, hopping around trying to kick off his shoes at the same time.
“I am?” I said, figuring he was promoted in reading or passed his math test. “Why am I going to be so happy?”
“Because I know the truth about Santa.”
The truth about Santa. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Who told him? Was he too young to stop believing? Should I try to prolong the fantasy?
I decided that when you’re unsure of how to respond to someone, restating what was just said is a great stalling technique.
“What do you mean you know the truth about Santa?”
“I know that he’s not real. Now you can have a good Christmas because you don’t have to pretend to be Santa any more, you don’t have to buy separate presents from you and Santa, you don’t have to hide them anymore....”
“Wait...what makes you think that Santa is not real?” I hoped that he couldn’t sense my ambivalence in dealing with the whole Santa thing. Kids can smell parental weakness and love taking full advantage of it.
Evan tossed his backpack onto the floor and approached the kitchen table like a politician strutting toward a podium. He put his hands on the table with locked elbows and arms stretched out tight. Whatever argument he was about to make, he clearly wanted to be taken very seriously.
“Well, for one thing, it’s impossible for anyone to deliver toys to EVERYchild, all over the world, in one single night. No way can that happen.”
“Maybe he has helpers.”
“Mom, I know that he’s not real so he can’t have helpers.” Evan rolled his eyes at me as if to suggest that I might be the most clueless person he’s ever met. “Besides, if Santa was real, he wouldn’t look different every time I see him.”
“He looks different? What do you mean?”
Evan plopped down at the table. “Remember when we saw Santa at Aunt Elaine’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that Santa had blue eyes and white eyebrows.”
“Okay...”
“The Santa that rides by our house on the fire truck and gives out candy canes has brown eyes and gray eyebrows. They’re different people. If there was one Santa Claus, they would look the same.”
Apparently, the defining factor in my child’s loss of innocence has come down to eye and eyebrow color. I mentally cursed the sloppiness of those Santas for failing to properly fool my child.
Guiltily, I thought about the times in years past when I’d complained about how much effort was involved in keeping up The Santa Fantasy. Wouldn’t things be so much easier once none of the kids believed in Santa? I wouldn’t have to worry about disguising my writing on the gift tags. There’d be no need to purchase separate “Santa only” wrapping paper. I could stay in bed instead of rising at 2:00 am to lug the gifts downstairs on Christmas Eve in order to give the appearance of a visit from Santa. I’d no longer have to eat the cookies and drink the milk left out for Santa, or munch on carrots intended for reindeer.
Yes, once The Santa Fantasy was over, Christmas would be so much simpler. Why, then, do I feel such melancholy now that he finally knows the truth?
Like all rites of passage in childhood, he was bound to hit this one sooner or later. At age 9-1/2, he’s probably right on schedule. Still, I can’t help but sting from the realization that Santa, the grandest element of childhood imagination and wonder, is lost to my son forever. Before I know it, he’ll enter adolescence, and all of childhood’s magic will be nothing but a memory. It feels as if he’d been straddling the fence between childhood and adulthood, but now he’s swung both legs over to the adult side.
Somehow, in the shadow of life’s busyness and incomplete To-Do lists, my son grew up.
“Well, Evan, now that you no longer believe in Santa, there’s something very important that I have to tell you.”
Evan, suddenly looking more mature than I remember, gave me his full attention. I wondered if he could sense that he was about to become part of a special club: kids who have outgrown Santa Claus.
“Just because you no longer believe in Santa, you can’t ruin the fun for other kids. Some of them still believe, and you wouldn’t want to spoil Christmas for them, would you?”
He thought about this for a moment. “I won’t tell them about Santa, but I can tell them about the spirit of Christmas. That’s something that never goes away no matter how old you get. By the way, Mom, you should check your stocking.”
In our house, as in many others, we hang up Christmas stockings. Our family’s tradition has a twist to it, though, because we put small gifts into one another’s stockings in the days leading up to Christmas. The surprise is that you never know what you’re going to get, when you’re going to get it, or who it’s going to be from. You just have to keep checking your stocking from time to time to see if anything’s in there.
“Aw, did you put something in my stocking, Evan?”
His eyes were a bit misty. “Well, I saw you checking your stocking this morning and there was nothing in it, even though you always put stuff in everyone else’s. I felt bad that you didn’t get anything in your stocking, so I put something in there for you.”
I reached down into the bottom of my knit Christmas stocking. I could feel two heavy round objects settled in the stocking’s toe. I pulled them out. They were two shooter marbles; one green and white swirled and one brown, black, and white swirled. Evan knows that I collect old marbles, but he collects them, too. He’d given me two prized marbles from his own collection.
“Evan, these are really cool, but why are you giving them to me? I know that you like to collect the large shooter marbles.”
“Yeah, I like them, but I know that you like them, too. Besides, I know that if I give them to you, you won’t throw them against a wall or something. You’ll take care of them. So, do you like them?”
“I love them. You are the kindest, most sweetest boy ever, do you know that?” I gathered him in my arms and gave him a huge hug.
Now I was the one with misty eyes. Evan was right: the spirit of Christmas never goes away no matter how old, or how young, you are. Sometimes it even sneaks into the closed, Grinch-y hearts of stressed-out moms when they least expect it, appearing in the form of 9-year-old boys who grow up much too quickly.
Comments
And I learned that Santa wasn't real when I found a letter to Santa in a box of my parents' stuff when we were getting ready to move. But I'm greedy, so I don't think I ever 'fessed up.
Damage control for the eye makeup now.
You have really raised him right -- thank you so much for writing about it.
I have a nine-year-old boy, too. This week he used the money he had earned from shoveling snow to buy his little brother a birthday gift. "I think I should because I'm getting older now, mom," he said. And then he picked a little item I knew his brother had been wanting all year, but had forgotten about myself.
Sigh. Thank you for this post. Lovely.
When we are in the heat of being the mother-who-makes-Christmas, we do not see the payoff most days. Thanks for sharing the day you were gifted with this vision.
Andifi were diabetic, I wouldbe in a coma right now.
My parents neither really confirmed nor denied the existence of Santa Claus. I kind of had it figured out when I was about three and announced, "Daddy! Santa shops at K-Mart too!" when I saw a K-Mart price sticker left on one of my gifts and seeing Dad's deer-in-the-headlights look. I think I told my younger brother when he was about five or so--he'd been on the fence about it and asked me.
We're German-American, so we did stockings on St. Nicholas Day (December 6), not on Christmas. We always got leftover Halloween candy, small trinkets, and an orange with "St. Nickkist" written on it like the SunKist logo. I knew Mom was filling them, but I wondered where she got those special oranges. I thought they were marketed special for St. Nick's day, like Halloween or Easter or Christmas candies. I kept looking at the grocery store for them, until one day I saw a stockboy going into the backroom and caught a glimpse of TONS of oranges. I figured that that was where mothers went to get their children's St. Nick's Day oranges (all my classmates got oranges too, as they're traditional) and that they had to hide them in the backroom and make them available on request only so that kids wouldn't find out.
I was about 13 or so when I realized you can peel off the SunKist logo and write on an orange peel with a ball-point pen.
R
I'd have those marbles made into earrings to wear on special occasions. What a genuinely heartfelt, generous gift. What a kid!
I don't remember a specific line between believing in Santa & not believing. I do remember feeling very grown-up when my nephew was still small and I stayed up with the adults while they put together his haul from Santa. Undoubtedly that helped with the transition.
Rated for Christmas spirit!
Thanks for sharing this wonderful reminder of what Chistmas is all about.
D
I loved this post. I used to be like you, grumbling through the holidays. I had good reasons. Bad memories, etc. But I have been re-evaluating my feelings about Christmas. Reading this, and the emotions your work evoked, helped me a little bit with that pondering. Maybe the holidays aren't so bad, after all. Rated.
Merry Christmas.
:-)
I knew I could count on you for a perfect holiday story! I think our 11 year old doesn't want to ruin the Chirstmas magic by asking me to confirm or deny Santa's reality and so I don't.
Mrs. Michaels - I'm sorry about the eye makeup, but your comment had me chuckling. I'll try to give a makeup warning next time. I love that you found a letter to Santa as a kid and never told.
Squirrel - I'm always happy to see you in my comments. See what you have to look forward to with Pokey?
Gracie - You're the best! Thanks so much for being so sweet. XOXO
Kathy - Thank you!
Jess - Aw, I wouldn't tell your stepson either. Kids grow up so fast these days. I'm all for letting them be kids while they can.
Jen - Yes! I knew that the wrapping paper would be a giveaway so I always made sure to keep super-secret Santa only paper. As stealthy as I thought I was, he STILL figured it out.
Eva - Thank you for finding the joy in my story. If nothing else happens this holiday season, Evan's marble gift will be enough.
Julie - Thank you!
Walk Away Happy - He IS a sweet child, but the depth of his generosity surprised even me. Thank you for stopping by.
Ranting Boomer - We are of like minds. I love your contrast of white sand on toes vs. white snow on boots.
Skeletnwmn - Thank YOU so much for your kind words.
Wildmarjoram - Thank you for sharing the story of your own 9-year-old son. The fact that he spent his money on a SIBLING is truly amazing. The future looks bright with caring kids like him in it.
Steph - What a lovely thing to say! Thank you so much. Indeed, moments like these are the true gifts of life.
Liz - Ha! I guess in addition to a makeup mishap warning, I'll have to include a warning for excessive sweetness.
Designing Jen - Thank you so much! Happy Holidays to you, too.
Surly - Aw, what a bittersweet story. Hopefully you and your sister can laugh about it now. I appreciate you stopping by.
Leeandra - I will never be able to look at Sunkist oranges again without thinking of your story. So precious!
John - Your stock broker? I'll bet that went over well with the kids!
Cindy - I refuse to think of you as a brat. You probably just said that to enhance your already cool image. Am I right?
Maria - I'd do the same thing: let your son believe if he still does. Childhood is so fleeting.
JLynne - Your comment made me smile. Thank you SO MUCH.
Marcelle - The best gifts are often unexpected, aren't they? Thanks for your kind words. :)
My daughter recently found out there was no tooth fairy. She's only 7 so I had to talk to her about not ruining it for the other kids her age. Sometimes, I think kids feel important when they know an adult secret!
love him love him love him
and you.
Love the "makeup warning" idea.
Susan - Yes, I think there's something special when you're a kid about knowing something that other kids don't know. Thanks so much for stopping by.
lpsrocks - I cannot imagine you in the least bit Grinch-y. Not ever.
Sarah - Thank you so much!
Diana - Thank you, my friend. XOXO
Charles - I've read your comment six times and I've smiled from ear to ear each time. Between my son and people like you, my attitude is greatly improving.
Sheepy - I hear you on the stupid teenager part. That's part of the reason I write these stories - so that I can remember their goodness when they do stupid things.
Spotted Mind - Oh no! I hope you weren't using the same eye makeup as Mrs. Michaels.
Lacey - So nice to meet you! I'm laughing and nodding in agreement at your sister's comment. I appreciate your kind words.
Sally - You always say the nicest things. Thanks so much for your continued support, my friend. XOXO
Mary - Yes, the marbles are what did it for me, too. Thank you so much for always being so gracious and for truly "getting" all of the mom-stuff. XOXO
WSFTCat - Thank you. :)
Mamoore - My middle son, who's now 13, tried so hard to hold onto the Santa Fantasy. I felt very bad when he finally chose to give it up (right around the same age as your son.) We don't have to tell them. They figure it out on their own, at the right time. Thank you for your nice words.
Axegrinder - Lucky you to have young grandsons. Holidays are always so much better when viewed along with little ones.
Karin - Thank you so much for sharing some Christmas magic with us. Hugs to your little girl.
Wakingupslowly - Love right back at you! :)
Emma - Thank you very much for the writing compliment. Coming from you, that means the world. XOXO
bbd - Oh, your kids are probably sweet , too. How could they not be with you for their father? Thanks for stopping by, my friend.
Sierrasong - What a gift that would be if Evan would stay as empathetic as he is today! Thank you.
MB - Thank you. The stockings are our favorite Christmas tradition. Merry Christmas to you and your family, too!
Historicalhome - More people should have your Christmas spirit. Thank you for stopping by.
Thank you, for commenting on my first blog.. I was nervous and it probably sounded so. I appreciate your kind words. So then I went back to you blog and actually saw this one about Santa that is so well done. I have a 9 yr old too and I'm quite Grinchy about the whole Xmas thing.. so I truly enjoyed it. It's a keeper.
Speaking of finding things, I appreciate that you found this essay and enjoyed it. Thank you! If you have ideas to keep 9-year-olds small for a while longer, I'd appreciate hearing them. They grow too fast, don't they?
What an amazing young man! And so generous (obvious in his comment that he mirrors you with that) And he processed the news to mean that it was all going to be easier for you. Sounds to me like he will be able to handle lots of life information in a way that works.
It just goes to show that we each have our own unique experience, and each parent and child has their own unique relationship. My own revealing moment came much earlier at school, and not without its sense of betrayal. I could never talk to my parents about it.
This past year I wrote "The Santa Story Revisited - How to Give Your Children a Santa They Will Never Outgrow". There are some ideas in there that also might suit him (and you) as ways to play Santa together in a way that only enhances the Santa experience for everyone - including believers - in your world.
Thanks for the heart-warming story!
Arita
Merry Christmas Lisa.
sophieh - Aw, thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
tg within - I enjoyed your sweet story, too. Thanks for stopping by.
Blue - I hope that you, "Mr. Claus," and Jacob had a lovely Christmas.
Julie - So nice to see you here, my friend. Merry Christmas to you as well. :)
Algis - I'm honored to receive a comment from you. Thank you!
Grace - I agree. This has taught me to treasure those simple childhood rituals while they last, even if I fail to see their value at the time. Looking back, their sweetness reveals itself. I hope that you and your family had a wonderful Christmas.