HEY MOM, IS SANTA REAL?

She came home and walked in the house and directly looked me in the eye. I was caught a little off guard. She looked at me intently and had fervor in her voice when she asked me, “Is Santa real? I know he’s not real. Olive told me on the way home. from school.” Gasp. Gulp. Give me a damn class of wine. WTF. My 8 and a half year old just shot a dagger through my heart and I have a choice. I can lie and carry on. Or I can look her in the eye and tell the truth. Here’s what happened.

I was stunned. But my instinct kicked me in the face and I went with my gut. I looked at her and said, “honey, it is true that Santa clause who brings you presents under the tree is not real, but his spirit is 100% real and I still believe in him wholly.” She said, “but you’re Santa, like you buy the presents?”

Y’all. I couldn’t lie. I just couldn’t. Call me wrong. Call me a baby. Or call me human. I told her what came out of my mouth. And a little part of me died that day. 

When we watched Elf as a family recently (yes, it was my first time) and yes (I know that’s nuts) but we got to the end and I completely cried my eyes out. Because growing up, singing Christmas songs was always just part of Christmas celebrating. But what I realized while watching Elf (at the ripe age of 43), was singing Christmas carols is about the spirit of Christmas. It’s about believing in something wonderful and possible. And magical. And carrying on the Christmas spirit for eternity regardless if you’re still a toddler or you’re in your 70’s, is incredibly important. 

What I realized also in this moment, was this burning desire inside me this Christmas season to slow down and watch the holiday spirit unfold and enjoy every moment of Christmas wonder and the twinkle of joy in my kids eyes.  Because that’s important to me. And that matters.

I remember the first Christmas I spent married and my stepson opened his gifts on Christmas morning and it was the first time it wasn’t about my gifts. It was about a child’s and his excitement and wonder and innocence on Christmas morning and that truly moved me to tears. It was a Christmas I’ll never forget. It was the Christmas I realized it’s the spirit of giving and the wonder and beauty of children.  That Christmas changed me. It also awakened me in multiple ways.

I don’t know if I made the right choice telling my daughter the truth. But I did say “I’ll never lie to you.” Which is the truth. I think. 

I’m no perfect parent, but that was a hard call.

And even though I’m stunned at the thought of her knowing about Santa’s cookies and milk and the presents around the tree, I’m humbled by her maturity and growth. And even though I die a little at the thought of her growing so incredibly fast, I realize what a gift each year has been at Christmas and will continue to be regardless of a man coming down the chimney or not. Period.

Now I’ll go cry myself to sleep. Merry merry friends.

Love, Maile