gypsymom

When I was a kid, I never believed in Santa.  My mother was never any good at it, and I figured if there really was a Santa Claus, he wouldn’t bring lots of presents to kids whose parents were rich, but hardly anything or sometimes nothing to poor kids.  It sounds sad, and maybe it was.  So anyway, as long as I can remember, I’ve thought the whole idea of Santa Claus was ridiculous.

When I had children, their father and I decided–each for our own reasons–to tell them the truth about Santa Claus.  So they have always known the story of Saint Nicholas.  Call me terrible for “depriving” them if you will, but they know that I work hard to provide them with clothes and toys and food all year long, and same goes for Christmas time.  They know there’s no magical jolly elf that magically can create the toys they want.  I have taught them, however, that most kids do believe in Santa Claus and under no circumstances are they to ever tell any kid that Santa Claus is not real.  I will not be responsible for some kid’s bubble getting popped.  I think it’s great for other people to do the whole Santa thing, really.  It’s just not for me.  We choose to celebrate Christmas in a non-Santa fashion.

That being said, Thing # 2 has decided this year that he does believe in Santa Claus, even though he knows Santa’s not real because we told him.  Hey that’s a five-year-old’s logic.  So we said …Fine.  He knows, and he knows where the presents really come from, and the whole Christmas story, and all that.  So we went to two Christmas parties where Santa was around, and got pictures of him with Santa.  I have to admit, it’s fun.  He also told me he wants something from Santa under the tree.  So, yes, I couldn’t resist and put From Santa on a toy for him.

It kind of makes me wish I had had the whole magical and wonderous Santa Claus experience  as a child.  But then I wake up.