Well the magical season that is Christmas-time is coming to a close. I find this to be the most wonderful time of the year because it’s the only time that we openly accept the idea of a stranger entering our homes while we sleep. I’m talking about the most dangerous, ballsy criminal known to mankind, Santa Claus. It’s the only time of year that every creak made in the house prompts a child to shut their eyes tighter so that Santa continues to stuff their stockings as opposed to running to their parents' bedside at the sound of a potential break in. At what point do you tell your children that they still need to be aware of such sounds on Christmas Eve? Because turns out, that might still be a break in. At what point do you spoil the illusion of Santa Claus for your own safety?
I remember when I first stopped believing in Santa Claus. I was in 3rd grade. I had my suspicions the previous Christmas, but I wanted to hold on tight to this childhood tradition. I was on the phone with my mom’s friend the day after Christmas and was rattling off all the presents I had received without specifying which were from Santa (a lava lamp) and which were from family. When I told her I got a lava lamp, she said, “oh yeah I was with your mom when she picked that out.” And just like that all my suspicions were confirmed in one nonchalant sentence. My jaw dropped. I wanted to stop her and ask if she was aware that she had destroyed a young girl’s belief in Santa Claus with such ease. But I didn’t. Instead, I succumbed to the reality of the post Santa Claus world with the same unhappy reluctance one experiences when being forced to continue with a shower after realizing there is no hot water.
Breaking the illusion of Santa Claus, and thus destroying someone’s youth, is a very touchy subject. With older siblings, the internet and plain common sense kids these days stop believing in Santa Claus at varying ages. One must proceed with caution on the topic of anything Christmas related. You should make sure to include Santa Claus when talking about the holiday season; to open it up to any still-believers to make their delusions (ahem) attachment known. This tactic is especially important when talking to children, but because I’d rather be safe than sorry, I use it when interacting with all ages. That is why I asked the kid I nanny, AS WELL as the woman I intern for, what they asked for from Santa.
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the boy a nanny would look through toy magazines and tell me what he wanted. I took the Christmas tree and stockings in their house to be proof that they weren’t Jewish so I decided to bring some holiday spirit into the mix. Whenever he would tell me he wanted something I would tell him he should ask Santa Claus.
I must mention that this child always uses the word “okay” where most people would say “yes”. For example, we were looking through the Toys R Us magazine, he pointed at a train set and said, “I want this” to which I responded, “oh yeah?” as in, how interesting that you would want the 15th train set we have come across in the first three pages of this magazine. Then he said, “okay”, as if to say, “great idea, Anna.” He gives me far too much credit in our conversations, really.
A few days after I instructed the child to direct his toy desires towards Santa, I was in the kitchen with his mother before she went to work. The boy said he wanted a lollipop (really a frozen yogurt) and the mom told him not now. He said hopefully, “maybe for Christmas.” She turned to me and said, “it’s so funny he has been saying he wants things for Christmas a lot lately, I guess you really can’t escape the commercial side of Christmas.” No you cannot. And it doesn’t help when your nanny makes sure he knows Santa is the only thing to care about during the holidays. She didn’t seem upset that I had dragged her son into the deep, darkness that is commercialized Christmas, but it also did not sound like emphasizing presents for Christmas was really part of their parenting plan. I had spent so much time nurturing and protecting the belief in Santa Claus that it never occurred to me that my preservation of youth would be interpreted as commercial capitalist propaganda.
The good news was she seemed to think this idea had magically appeared in her son’s head. I shrugged an “I have no idea where that came from” shrug convincing my innocence, but also insinuating that if he tells you it was my idea to get those train tracks he’s lying!
Merry Christmas to all!! I purposely made this blog post 3 days late so that you could feel a resurgence of the holiday spirit just as it was fading away...
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