'Tis the Season To Be ... a Liar?

I pretty much love it that there is a season dedicated to being jolly. That kind of human earnestness is so charming to me. Grown men decorating bushes. Hardware store employees wearing red hats. It's all so unabashed. And it does feel merry and magical.

Okay the season feels like all kinds of other things too. Stretching money to cover the cost of goods that are meant to symbolize the degree of love and esteem we feel for others is seriously stressful and unfair, a feat at which we are destined to fail, and a fact I forget and then despise each and every year. There is also the element of "normal" life chugging along beneath the tinsel surface that is anxiety producing. All the usual stuff like work shifts and laundry seem so out of place, yet continue to press and press. And then there is family - visiting, calling, organizing - which, no matter the degree of emotional health present, brings all sorts of stress and worry.

But still, even with all that, I always like it. Our tree this year is a bit makeshift, our family ornaments are buried so deep within our frigid storage unit that there is not even a shred of hope of unearthing them until a mountain of stuff is moved. And that mountain of stuff can't be moved until the house is done. And the house won't be done until, until, until...? So it's a tree with lights only, but it counts. It absolutely counts. The glow alone makes it feel like Yuletide.

But you know what else it's the season for? Lying to your kids. That's a harsh way to put it, but the whole Santa thing is so tricky for me. Ten years ago I made a New Year's resolution to tell the truth no matter what, and once decided, it has been an easy resolution to keep. Except for Santa. Yesterday Echo and I stopped by the local, toy store to pick up some final gifts, gifts for the older girls to find waiting for them under the tree, the little gifts that Santa or Holly the Christmas Fairy (depending on their beliefs) would leave. And because she is always with me and because I value her opinion, Echo was helping me choose between the do-it-yourself stuffed animal bunny or the do-it-yourself stuffed animal cat when it suddenly occurred to me the grave error I was making. 

Although she didn't know it, she was helping me pick out gifts from Santa. The mythical magic guy that comes down the chimney. She's no dummy. Moms don't pick out gifts from Santa.

I felt like I had just failed Parenting 101. 

Desperate to uphold the myth, I waited until Echo was playing with something else, furtively bought the items and then told her I hadn't. To put it simply, I LIED. Straight to her face. 

That sure doesn't feel merry and bright. Most of the time I can summon my own belief in magic and tell the girls that, yes, I believe in Santa. With the glitter of lights and the smell of evergreens, it's easy to feel benevolent, magical love all around. If we want to call that Santa, that's fine with me. But boy, that sure is different than doing something, buying two do-it-yourself kits in both bunny and squirrel models, and then deliberately going out of my way to tell Echo that indeed I did not do any such thing.

Sigh.

When I was young my father, perhaps the tidiest human being on the planet, would dig out his work boots, dip them in sooty ash and then march them around our living room, leaving realistic Santa footprints stretching from chimney to half-eaten cookies. Then, on Christmas morning, whisk broom in hand, he'd move about, sweeping and grumbling about Santa's mess. I have to say that there was nothing more convincing than this charade. Santa had to be real for my father would never deliberatley foul up the floor. 

Later when my dear, older, yet still wide-eyed sister and I were accosted on the elementary school playground, basically gang-raped by "the truth about Santa" we were both devastated. But, and my liar self takes solace here, not for a moment was I upset with what I then knew was false living room fouling on the part of my father. I wasn't ever mad at him. That's what I'm hoping for with our girls.

The myth itself is just so heart--warming anyway. When Echo says: Mom, Santa LOVES children doesn't he. I fill to the brim with love for that white bearded guy. I love people that love my children, and Santa really does. He works all year 'round. He never forgets a single little being (at least not in theory). So I say, Yes. Santa does love children. And Echo putters away, so happy, muttering to herself, Santa is SO friendly...

Bella, about to turn ten at the end of the week, has been snagged by adults, some well-meaning and truth telling, and now no longer believes in Santa. She simply knows that parents are involved. But bless her little indomitable spirit, she believes in fairies and no one has squashed that belief, so she spends Yuletide looking for, and finding, evidence of Holly the Christmas Fairy's visits. She has saved face - no barrel chested fifth graders will catch her on the playground - while preserving her magical belief. 

That still leaves the parental decision hanging. Do I put a note on the do-it-yourself squirrel in loopy, calligraphic, fairy handwriting? Do we sprinkle fairy dust near the stockings? My gut says: fairy dust - yes, loopy note - no. Such a fine line to walk, but as long as it doesn't involve straight up lies, I think I'm game.

 

 

Comments

[Christie]

Ugh. We just went through the realization that the Advent fairies aren't real. My daughter was sad, but then she realized that she could also be an Advent fairy. Last night she came up with the activity and put it in the box and it was a surprise to the adults.

Along with the Advent fairies she wondered about all the other fantasy folks that visit our house, so she's coming to terms with Santa and the tooth fairy as well.

We never really wanted to get into all this lying, but it just happened. When my daughter was young and we talked about Santa we talked about him as a pretend guy from books, and we were very clear that it was all make believe. When she was 5, though, my daughter was certain he was real and there was no talking her out of it. We decided to let it go and play along for the several years following.

I can remember an incident like the one you describe from my own childhood, where a gift my mother bought for someone else's birthday showed up from Santa. It just confused me, but it obviously stuck.

I am now relieved that my daughter knows and we can all be fairies for each other.

[6512 and growing]

Because I grew up celebrating Hanukkah, and my husband Christmas, we're navigating the holidays carefully now that we have little people.
There's a lot that I find sweet and magical about Christmas, but strangely Santa isn't one of them. And so, my kids have been told that Santa isn't real. And yet they know that most of their friends think he is.
Today a cashier at the hardware store gushed to Rose: are you excited about Santa? Remember to be good, because he's watching you. (which felt a little creepy).
But. What your dad did is so sweet and what you're doing for your daughters is also all in the name of sweetness, which is bigger than a fib that the whole country partakes in.

Also, I saw your Mothering article today. SO AWESOME. Such good wisdom.

[natalie]

Thanks Rachel!
And yes I am with you, I hate behavior modification disguised as a man in a red suit. The whole "be good", "don't cry" thing makes me want to bash people in the teeth. The fictional Santa that I am upholding, (I guess), loves kids unconditionally. He's watching you? That *is* creepy and I'm glad Rose doesn't think Santa's real, just so that she's spared nightmares by hardware store talk like that. Today, as an attempt to sort of even the playing field I said to Echo, "Ya know, there are some people that think Santa is just pretend." And she said, "Oh, no no no no no, that's so funny. *We* know he's real, don't we." So that was that.

[Kate]

We lived in an area with a lot of Muslim families for a while, and they don't do Santa. So while the white kids were adament and desperate in their belief, to the point where there were sometimes fights between kids over whether Santa was real (one Mum told her son that Santa doesn't come to Muslim kids because they are all bad, @!#$%......) We have explained in our family that the spirit of Santa Claus, and St Nickolaus are very real, the desire to give a surprise gift that will bring joy, the desire to provide assistance (anonymously) and the man in the red suit is a representation of that. It is a really hard one, especially with it all being so commercialised, and being used a bribery to get kids to be "nice".

[kris laroche]

we tried really hard to tell elliott when he was two-ish that santa was just an idea and not real. said it outright. he wouldn't buy it. he held fiercely to the idea that santa comes and after much trying to convince him otherwise, for the very same reason you are talking about (i felt repulsed by the idea of LYING to him), we let our argument against santa go. now santa comes here. fairly often i remind both of them that santa is a spirit and we talk about the santa spirit within us when we are making and buying gifts for others, and that the spirit is love love love, and other spirit/people with that same enormous heart include jesus, buddha, etc etc. the whole thing is so darn tricky. i'm confused by it, but i agree...the magic is so incredibly sweet. thanks for writing all this...love it. and love reading other people's way of doing things.