Outing the fat man

"So what's your take on the whole Santa Claus thing, Simon?"

I was confronted with this question en route to a cafe in Toronto last weekend.  We were in the slow process of searching for a parking spot in the midst of the break-up of Canada's largest Santa Claus parade; we had some time to kill.  I'm still not entirely sure what my whole 'take' on the jolly man in red is going to be in relation to our boys.  (We currently don't have a fireplace or chimney.)

On the one hand, all the feel good family type stuff generally associated with the Christmas season  - by which I am implying more than just the Christian tradition - is iconically and unavoidably tied to the man in red.  On the other hand, the current generally accepted physical incarnation of Santa Claus comes to the North American shopping public courtesy of the Coca-Cola Company.

Still, the question is really whether or not the Fraser boys are going to be getting presents from 'Santa' as they grow up and my wife and I subsequently wait for the day when the illusion shatters.  Or reality seeps through the cracks running around the bubble, which is what happened for me.  (Since I haven't officially conferred with Amy on this one I can't give a definitive answer.)

I think I might be more comfortable explaining the mythos of Santa and what the spirit of the season means to me.  I remember opening presents when I was smaller and giving thanks to Santa with pointed glances at my parents, letting them know that the gratitude was really directed at them and that the gig was up.  It was a fun game to play.  Now, in my thirties, I still do it.

I got tiny hand-written notes that accompanied the money I got from the Tooth Fairy in exchange for baby teeth placed under my pillow.  I still have the official little wooden container I used to store loose teeth under my pillow and inside which, the next morning, would be a couple quarters.  I wish I'd kept some of those notes.  My mother's tiny hand writing was immaculate.  I remember one that complained of the fact I had rolled over in my sleep and nearly squished the tiny fairy!

Easter mornings my brother and I would start by hunting for our chocolate and jelly bean laden baskets, followed by a search for coloured hard-boiled eggs.  It was way fun.  Oddly, the biggest disappointments came, for me, when I found out whether or not I had received a solid (yay!) or hollow (boo!) chocolate bunny in my basket.  Either way, it was gone within 24 hours and I was hoppin' high on sugar.

There are so many holidays that have mythical figures associated.  And kids are a lot smarter than most parents give credit for.  What I don't want to take away from my boys is the sense of wonder that was (and is still for me) associated with certain holidays.  This wonder was largely instilled because of the other-worldly figures associated with the occasion.

I still don't know exactly what I'm going to do.  Play it by ear, mostly?  I really like the idea of sneaking a whole bunch of presents under the Christmas tree on Christmas eve and doing my sons the courtesy of gobbling the milk and cookies I will be sure to instruct must be left out for a man with a belly that shakes when he laughs like a bowl full of jelly.

I certainly won't lie outright.  There are certain things I think are more edifying for a young child to suss out on their own, things that lend themselves to a maturing process.  This is probably one of those.

Comments

[marian]

I loved the magic of santa and the easter bunny in relation to Max. He was enthralled. Especially with the easter bunny. When he found out that Santa wasn't real, he immediately extrapolated to the bunny and was truly crushed. And angry. He felt betrayed. "Grownups shouldn't lie!" If I had it to do over again, I'm not entirely sure what I'd do.... the child's desire to believe in magic is so strong. And it's so much fun while they do.

[Mark]

That's a tough one. What about the selfish part of you (there is one somewhere, right?) that says, "But I want my kids to know it's us getting them these presents, because Lord knows we need all the positive spin we can get."

Seriously, though, my concerns are more in line with marian's comment. It would be kind of like the The Truman Show, where the character is happily be-bopping along until the big secret is revealed. Then life is never the same.

In reality, I never want Ben to lose any of his innocence. He says "hello" to strangers and announces his name, something I'm sure life will pound out of him, most likely in the form of our warnings about safety.

Whoa, sorry. Um, happy day, everybody.

[Moksha Gren]

It's a tough call, no doubt. I don't remember being crushed when I discovered the truth, so my memories of the whole ezperience are quite positive. I loved the excitement and magic surrounding Santa when I believed...and I felt like a big boy for being in on the secret when I learned the truth. So, I tend to come down on the side of encouraging the belief. To alleviate my guilt I'll just keep reminding myself that it's not lying, it's make-believe. And I really do think those are two different things. We have a copy of the J.R.R.Tolkien's letters he wrote to his children as Father Christmas. They were, like your mom's fairy letters, a delightful way to encourage magical and creative thinking in your kids, I think. So, Santa will probably be visiting Norah. And unless her Dad gets lazy (which has been known to happen)...Santa may well be leaving nice little letters behind as well.

[Paul]

Matthew entered the nudge nudge wink wink phase a couple of years ago. He still gets gifts from Santa, and he know where they really come from, but nobody says anything.

Interesting thoughts were generated by this entry, Si. I remember taking the truth in stride many years ago, and Matthew has done the same. I know that some kids are crushed, scandalised, whatever, and I wonder how much of that has to do with critical thinking abilities, and credulism (credulosity?)...uh, credulity (yeah, that's the ticket).

[Cheeseburger Brown]

Dear Simon,

I just can't spill the beans on my attitude toward Santa without spoiling the meat of my current serialized novelette.

Suffice to say my wife and I have reached a compromise between our conflicting mythologies that we believe we cann foist on our kids without feeling like deceivers, and which shouldn't be too hard to bear once reality seeps in.

Good luck.

Love,
Cheeseburger Brown

[Linda]

If I had to do it all over again, I would surely accentuate the religious meanings (of the religious holidays)more than I did. And fill the holidays with more family traditions that would stand on their own as far as making the holidays special parts of my kids' childhoods. Having accomplished that I think maybe I would have foregone the Santa/Bunny things. Our kids have enough to get disillusioned about these days.
Hey Paul, you're making up words. That's MY bag ;-)

[Linda]

Paul, I think "creedence" is the word you wanted... but I like credulosity.

[Linda]

Ah geeze, credulity IS a word. I thought you made that up too...

[Grampa]

What strikes me most about your post Sigh, is that you defer your definitive answer until consulting with your boss (wife). You have made it son. Welcome to the world of the..... Sorry, have to ask Baba what we should call this wonderful life together.

[TerriTorial]

Diva, since starting Kindergarten, has gotten, lets say, "wise" to the whole Santa thing and has been quesitoning it. I never give her an answer, but say "What do you think?" and let her explain it to me.

So far, she still believes, and I'm A-Okay with that.

[Tasha]

Neat, I inspired a post! I still maintain that there is a certain amount of childhood wrapped up in believing in Santa/Bunny/Tooth fairy that a child will ultimately regret if not given the chance to have that wonder.

But then, I don't remember being terribly crushed when i found out the truth, either.