I walked out of parent-teacher conference for my 6-year-old son, Santiago. The comments were the same as they had been since preschool. His math, writing, and reading skills exceeded class expectation, but his behavior was the same: lacks self-control and has trouble following directions. My son can follow directions, like sit still, but count backward from ten and by three he’ll be standing up while the teacher screams at him, “What were my directions?!” That’s my son. Completely brilliant beyond his years with the energy of a puppy on Red Bull.
There was a new topic in this meeting. Santiago lied. I never had problems with him lying, so this was something that immediately concerned me. The teacher was going to do her part and mommy and I quickly went to work on ours. The first thing we did was make sure he understood that our home did not allow lying. We spoke to him together, as a team, and he listened. He received the message, loud and clear. The problem arose when mommy explained, “And Christmas is coming up. Santa Claus doesn’t bring gifts to little kids who lie.”
I thought to myself, Wait a second. Isn’t Santa Claus a lie? I know this isn’t what parents set out to do. We don’t set out to lie to our kids, but this whole Santa Claus and the North Pole thing is lying, isn’t it? I know my son would think so if he finds out. Forget if he finds out. When he finds out is the proper wordage here. This is unavoidable. In fact, he might find out this year. He’s no longer on the little kid playground at school. He now shares the big schoolyard with the older classmates, who all know Santa Claus doesn’t exist. What happens when they tell him, he gets angry, comes home, and expects my reassurance? In a flash, it hit me: I have to tell him.
“Santiago!” I shouted. He peeked over the couch to look at me. “Come with daddy.”
We walked out to the front porch. I took a seat on the steps, lower than him. I had him stand before me. “I have something to tell you. I have to tell you the truth.” He nodded, taking me seriously. “Santa Claus isn’t real.”
His mouth dropped wide open. I gave a shameful smirk and nodded, “Yeah. He’s not real.” He gave a bit of a smile, still looking perplexed. “Do you know what’s at the North Pole, Santiago?” I asked. He shook his head, no. “Ice. Snow. That’s about it. No Santa’s workshop. No reindeer. Nothing.” I explained to him further while he interrupted, his mind racing, putting it all together:
“So, there are no elves, are there?!”
“Last Christmas my present said From Santa, but it was really you guys!”
“That’s why there are so many Santas at the mall! Because they’re all fake!”
“Elf on the Shelf isn’t real either!”
“This is like Linus and The Great Pumpkin!”
“It’s just a trick.” Santiago smiled, shaking his head, saying, “Man, I got tricked. You guys tricked me good.”
That’s where I redirected our conversation. I explained to my son how mommies and daddies weren’t tricking their kids. Parents teach their kids about Santa to help them believe in magic. We also want them to learn that if they’re good, they will be rewarded. I asked Santiago if Linus was dumb for believing in The Great Pumpkin.
“No!” he said. “He’s a good kid.”
“Yes, Santiago. He’s a kid who believes in magic and we want kids to believe in magic.”
“Santa makes Christmas more fun for kids,” he replied.
“Exactly!” I answered.
And now, Santiago is a big kid. He is no longer a little kid who believes in Santa. He is a big kid who can help mommy and daddy create Christmas magic for his little brother and sister. He is a magic-maker.
Santiago was so excited to be in-the-know that he wanted to talk about it. That’s when a bolt of panic came over me, realizing I was going to have problems keeping his mouth shut. I told him over and over again, making him promise, that he could not tell anyone about this special Santa secret: not his brother, not his sister, not the kids at school, not the kids at the park, nobody. He promised, though I knew I’d have to be reminding him daily.
“Can I tell mommy?” he asked me. “Sure,” I answered. We walked into the house. He ran into the kitchen where mommy was doing dishes. He whispered to her the big news. She quickly looked at me and snapped back at him, “No! Who told you that?” She looked to me for help. “I told him,” I quietly revealed. Boy, was mommy mad!
“Why did you do that?!”
“We knew this day was coming,” I replied. “Did you want some kid on the playground to tell him?”
“You’re ruining Christmas for him! He’s a little boy!”
“No, I’m not! I’m a big kid!” Santiago replied.
Mommy walked away from us, locking herself in the bathroom to cry alone. I knew I messed up by not discussing all of this with her first. I told Santiago to notice mommy’s reaction. “This Santa stuff is serious business!” I assured him. Again, I reminded him not to tell any of his friends about what he had learned, or they might cry too.
Mommy walked out of the bathroom and took Santiago aside to talk to him privately. She wanted to make sure he was okay after hearing the news. “Of course, I am, mommy! I’m a big kid!” She nodded her head, “Okay, my little man.” She kissed him and he ran off. After witnessing mommy’s reaction, I realized she might not have had a healthy Santa-isn’t-real revelation when she was a little girl. She sat alone for a while, letting the experience sink in.
Watching your kids grow up can be stressful, but you’ll be amazed how some of the experiences that hurt you as a kid might be nothing to them. You might even find healthy solutions to the difficult experiences you and your friends endured as children. I hope my wife finds some healing in all of this. I hope I did a good job. I hope Santiago keeps his mouth shut.
So far, Santiago has kept his promise. He hasn’t told any little kids his big kid secret. He loves to tell adults though. His favorite aunt returned home late one night from her vacation in Hawaii. She hadn’t seen Santiago in a week. She woke up the next morning to find him standing bedside, inches from her face, waiting for her to awaken, wide-eyed and smiling, saying:
“I know Santa doesn’t exist!”
Then, he unfolded his list and read aloud to her what he wants her to buy him for Christmas.
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