To Santa . . . or not to Santa . . .

No matter what our cultural backgrounds, many of us have grown up with an idea of Santa, or someone Santa-like, even if it wasn't our core belief or religion. And, generally, I would venture to say that most of those ideas were filled with joy and magic - as intended. My husband loves Christmas - he is the Clark Griswold of our neighborhood, and it is entirely possible you can see our house from space. As a couple, we have tried to foster the magic of Christmas and Santa in our own home with our son; but in hindsight, maybe we should have backed that sleigh up.

There were signs, but we didn't quite realize them in the moment. Our son avoided the Santa experience like the plague. If we happened to be at the mall, he would walk around the opposite side of the sitting Santa in the middle - didn't even want a glimpse. When we brought him to the Santa's Workshop Experience, we had to convince him to sit on Santa's lap - all for a picture.

Santa has written him a personal letter every year since he was 3, yet, until this year, he avoided reading them and only did so when pressed (he is now 11). He constantly asserted that he was on the "Naughty list", despite our best efforts to ensure him he wasn't. He wouldn't write Santa or make a Christmas list until right before December 25. When the Christmas season arrived, our son would have heightened anxiety about whether he was being good and perseverated on every mistake (even more than he does normally).

A couple of years ago, he started expressing his disbelief in Santa, but his father and I still limped it along, despite all of the signs that maybe we should come clean. 2023 was the year we decided to change that, and it changed our whole holiday season.

Turns out, the pressure of Santa was causing our son great anxiety. As much as we wanted it to be fun, the thought of an entity out there judging his actions with potentially dire consequences (being on the Naughty list), consumed him.

This year, when our son expressed his doubts about Santa, I confirmed them. I explained that the knowledge came with responsibility and that his job was now to make sure that the spirit of Santa and Christmas lives. The secret was his to keep and he needed to be careful when talking about it in front of others. This was a concept he could embrace. Our son was lighter. There was no perseverating or being afraid of the Naughty list. He trolled us with his Elf on the Shelf, whom he could now touch, and he helped fill his father's stocking on Christmas Eve. When Santa's letter came, our son opened it right away and read it, not with dread, but with a smile on his face. He's still not sure who writes them, but this year's letter seemed to bring him joy for the first time. He still stuck to some traditions: he wanted the video letter from Santa that my sister sends, and he still wanted to leave cookies and milk, and a treat for the reindeer.

I certainly have regrets for not putting the pieces together sooner - ahhhh parenting hindsight. (Let's be honest, "he sees you when you're sleeping" can be a pretty unsettling idea!) However, I'm glad we gave it a shot. Sometimes our romanticized ideas of things, or the traditions that we followed growing up, get in the way of how things are actually playing out in our present-day family dynamics. Don't be afraid to pivot, even if it is in a non-traditional direction. I wish we had done so, sooner.

Here's to keeping the spirit of kindness alive all year long! Happy New Year!