I ruined Santa Claus for my oldest when she was just five. I was a newbie parent at that point. I remember vividly driving in the car with my daughter strapped in her booster seat in the back when she asked, “Mom, is the Easter Bunny real?” I debated in my mind what to say. I kept thinking that for a five-year-old the idea of some large, furry animal coming into your house and leaving you a basket—even if it was full of goodies—had to be scary. It conjured up all sorts of horrifying amusement park clowns for me. So I spilled. “Well…the Easter Bunny is something fun that mom and dad do for kids.” Proud of myself for such a simple—yet loving and age appropriate answer—I kept driving.
Then came the follow-up. “So, if the Easter Bunny isn’t real what about Santa?” It never occurred to me that my daughter might link the two. Large, furry bunny—large, furry old guy. I shoulda figured. Stumbling through an answer, I mentioned something about, If you don’t believe then you won’t get any presents, or something similarly terrible, confusing and stupid.
With my other two children I haven’t made the same mistake when it comes to the Santa question. I just smile, and say, “What do you think?” When the time is right, they seem to just know and understand the whole magic that comes with keeping the Santa idea going. Turns out what parents have sensed for years has some scientific merit. That’s right—the Santa myth we sometimes feel guilty about perpetuating—is a part of a child’s normal, healthy cognitive development. Tied in to developing empathy and a host of other emotions, a strong sense of imagination (Santa included) can help children become caring, well-rounded adults. Now, I’m not saying that if you don’t do Santa at your house you’re some sort of bad parent. Not at all. Just that parents can feel good about keeping Santa alive and well--whether you want to justify it with some sort of scientific study, or you just enjoy embracing Santa as much as your kids do.
I don't remember how old I was, but I do remember my mother slipping and accidentally revealing that Santa was not real. It was something about the store the gift had come from. When I called her on it, she said that sometimes Santa needed help. Then she stumbled over something about the spirit of Santa. I already knew at that point that Santa wasn't real, but it was fun to keep the fantasy going. :)
ReplyDeleteMy parents didn't do Santa and neither do we. My husband remembers vividly seeing a photo of his older brothers eating the cookies he left for Santa and feeling horribly betrayed.
ReplyDeleteReally interesting! I'm glad the value of imagination is, at last, being recognized in our computer age. In my family, it was my eldest son who spilled to his little sister, on purpose. I just spoke about Santa to my granddaughter and saw her eyes grow larger with wonder. In a way, when a child already knows the reality, continuing to talk of Santa is a way of sharing something wondrous and acknowledging the part imagination can still play in the world today.
ReplyDeleteSo interesting to learn how fantasy is tied into empathy and pondering the future. What a wonderful way to keep the Easter Bunny and Santa alive!
ReplyDeleteMy older children now keep the Santa tradition alive for my younger one. They love to help--saying they hear reindeer outside (sometimes they go a bit over the top!).
ReplyDeleteMy children REALLY believe in Santa. Even my 10-year-old. Despite the fact that most of the kids at their school have been jaded for years. But my husband saw Santa on X-mas eve at his house when he was a kid (to this day he does not know what he saw!) and we both maintain that Santa is real.
ReplyDeleteI hope there is a Santa. Mommy and Daddy are unusually broke this year so I'm counting on Santa to bring the kids presents!!!
My kids still believe (and oldest is 11) and he will argue with his friends that he's real. I worry sometimes but I am more afraid of crushing him. My mother blurted out to me in an angry tirade when I was about 4 or so, "You think there's a Santa!? *I* am Santa." In her defense, my father had left (again--this time for good) and she was a single mom trying to make it all work out. She found me later that night sobbing in bed because I wanted there to be a Santa. She told me it was a nice story about a nice man that once had been. I cried some more. She said, "I was wrong. There is a Santa if you believe in him." I wiped tears, "really?" She said yes and went to bed. I tried hard, but it was over.
ReplyDeleteI first learned about Santa by peeking into my parents' closet around the holidays:)
ReplyDeleteI distinctly remember at about age five thinking how stupid this whole Santa thing was, but bravely carrying on the facade, because my parents needed to believe!
ReplyDeleteI believed in Santa for as long as I could, far longer than was acceptable. A little holiday magic is a good thing.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, excellent link. It makes sense that imagination helps development as much as any kind of formal education. Yay for Santa :)
ReplyDeleteI was talking about this with a friend recently, saying that I felt guilty every time something forced me to verbally repeat the myth. She said, "Think about it. Do you know anyone who is mad at their parents for getting them to believe in Santa?" After that, I stopped feeling guilty. It is a magical thing to be able to suspent belief in reality. I want her to have that for as long as it lasts.
ReplyDeleteThat's a great point!
ReplyDeleteMy kids never asked, and believed longer than most. Now, they're teens who know better, but still expect Santa to come. I hope it's been a magical part of their childhood!
ReplyDeleteHrmm. As one without kids, I've never really thought about this problem. It's really interesting to think about it one a cognitive level. Fascinating!
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