Yesterday, my children acted like they had completely forgotten what a chore is. Make bed? How about a pile of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals? Brush hair? They looked like punk rockers. Teeth? Let’s not go there. So I pulled out one of those old liners that mothers around the world rely on this time of year. “Oh, you better watch out… Santa Claus is coming to town.” That got their attention. But it ended up biting me right back.
At lunch, my 8 year old daughter brought up a couple of things that my 9 year old son told her. Two years ago, he found stuffed animal boxes BEFORE Santa gave them to him. Then he saw a stuffed animal in Mommy’s trunk BEFORE Santa put the animal in his sister’s stocking. So my daughter was mad and adamantly wanted to know if Santa was real or if some family member was ‘trying to pretend to be Santa.’ Love that. Trying to pretend and apparently not doing a very good job!
I honestly didn’t know what to do. I am honest with my kids. Like a couple of weeks ago when my daughter asked if there was still slavery. Not the kind she meant, but there is slavery with women and children being put in prostitution. I told her there is slavery. But I didn’t tell her what kind. But I hate for her not to ‘believe.’ I hate for that magical time of childhood to be over for her.
The kids decided if Santa was real, they wanted him to give them a picture of Rudolph flying. My son also suggested that his aunt could do geneology research on Santa since she does that all the time. So I called my husband. He ususally defers to me on these matters. So I’m sure it unnerved him that I didn’t know what to do. He finally said for me to tell the kids we’d discuss it when he got home.
About thirty minutes later, he emailed a note from Santa. The big red guy told him he didn’t like being questioned about his existence, that it reminded him of the Ploar Express which he was an uncredited source for the movie. He sent a picture (above) of Rudolph with his antlers all tangled in repelling rope (purple) because he ran into the mountian climber in the Himalayas and had to rescue him.
My kids laughed and laughed over that. Then my daughter said, “Thank you, Mommy. I do believe now.” And she’s perfectly happy now. Christmas crisis averted for now.