The Juice Boxx

Black Santa, I bought from Marshall's years before I became a mother...

I’m not a grinch, far from it. I love decorating a tree, candy canes, the color red. Ha. Christmas Carols (Well, most of them). I’m a great gift-giver. And Egg-nog? Yum.

I just don’t believe in Santa.

Of course, once upon a time, I did. When we were younger, my brother and I loved making lists for Santa, staying up late on Christmas Eve and running down to our tree early Christmas morning to open our gifts. But then one Christmas, our parents hired a “Santa” to actually come to our house and actually deliver the gifts. (This was back in the day folks. Imagine this happening now? We’d be statistics in a headline blasted on the front of the New York Daily News!!!) Low and behold, we saw him–that was part of the plan, I’m sure–a Black Santa creeping around our living room. “Hey Mom & Dad, you’ve got some ’splaining to do!!!”

So now, being the kind of person I am (I’m not really one to blindly follow rules or tradition), I just don’t believe in telling my child that this jolly old guy gets toys for every kid in the world and sneaks into their homes in the middle of the night to deliver them. There are kids out there, who will be 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 years old and still–somehow–believe in Santa. Good for them. Honestly, Sascha’s too smart for all that. I have the 3-year-old who asks why her friend’s step-dad is so mean to her…and why she can’t go to work today…and why do they have a commercial for every toy I like? I could attempt to keep up the Santa facade, but for what?

In the past few weeks, and now days before Christmas, random folks will ask a child: “Have you been naughty or nice?” “Have you been a good girl for Santa?”

…Makes my skin crawl…

So, Sascha knows that Santa is about as “real” as Dora. We see them, hear them, talk about them. They’re fun, but just not real.

Here’s how it goes with Sascha:

CVS cashier: “So have you been a good girl? Santa’s going to bring you nice gifts?”

Sascha: “Santa is nice, but he’s play-play. My mom buys me the best toys.”

CVS cashier: “Um, oh, ok.” (Whispers to me: “She doesn’t believe?”)

I know, I know, bah-humbug. To some, the story of Santa is pretty harmless, and I tend to agree. I also believe there’s nothing wrong with wonder and imagination and, as a parent, you need to flip on that little white lie switch on the regular. When she wants more sweets, I tell her her stomach will hurt so much we’ll have to go to the doctor. <She puts the candy cane down> I tell her to dance anyway she likes, because I believe she can be a great dancer. <She does moves I still can’t do> I tell her that God is good <She thanks God for giving us good things>

But I also believe there’s no harm in telling your child that toys don’t grow on trees, that parents and loved ones care about you and give gifts. Sascha definitely made a list of what she wants for Christmas: we have a gorgeous tree and she’ll be surprised and amazed about what’s under the tree for her on Christmas morning, just as every other fortunate kid will be…

The image of Santa is not going anywhere, I just choose to make our own holiday magic.