The Fuzzed Faced Lie

Growing up we never did Santa.  Now before you get all riled up and say how unfair it was and how I was robbed of such an important part of childhood, listen for a minute.  We still had traditions.  I vividly remember going to bed Christmas Eve with nothing under the tree.  Then waking bright and early on Christmas morning with gifts everywhere.  We still went to the mall and sat on Santa's lap.  We still left out cookies and milk (which my dad always ate).  There was plenty of magic surrounding Christmas at our house.  But we were never told the lie that some man dressed in red, flew around the world in one night in a sleigh pulled by reindeer, slid down our chimney and left all the gifts we had ever asked for under the tree. 

Christmas was and for me always will be about celebrating the birth of Jesus.  We give gifts as a way to symbolize the wise men giving gifts to baby Jesus.  And I was always fine with this explanation.  I never felt like I missed out on anything.  I never felt cheated or robbed. 

Then I had a child. Now approaching his 4th Christmas, his father is wondering if we are some how robbing him of some of the magic of Christmas.  And I admit it, I am torn.  Not because of my husband, but because he is an excellent arguer.  He can make these points that would convince an Eskimo they need to buy ice in bulk. 

Santa and Christmas is one of the few things I can look at logically.  *Come on, I am female, we are not logical.  I should tell my child all about Santa and how he is real?  How this man will break into our home on Christmas Eve and his father wouldn't shoot him.  And while we may go to the mall and see him, that is just Santa's helpers because the real Santa is too busy at the North Pole making all the toys you want.  So you will never see him but he exists, he is real. 

And I am also going to tell him about Jesus.  That although you cannot see him, he is real.  He lives in Heaven, and no you can't see heaven right now.  But I promise you he is there. 

Time goes on and Genghis grows up.  He learns that Santa was a lie.  He is not real.  He never came down your chimney, ate cookies and milk, and left you presents.  Oh, but I was not lying about Jesus.  Jesus is real, I promise. 

Then my darling husband knows that while he made me think, I will not change my mind.  So the darling man lets it go adds fuel to the fire by finding quotes about Santa from people I respect.  

"Can Teaching Your Children about Santa Claus Interfere with Their Spiritual Beliefs Later in Life?"

James Dobson: "I don't believe that those early, early fantasies really interfere with later Spiritual beliefs. I haven't seen any evidence of that, either in the life of my kids or in the lives of those I have had anything to do with. To allow a little bit of fantasy in a child's life enriches his intellectual life and I think he needs it. Children thrive on fantasy. It enriches our mental existence. Reality can be a pretty cold and hard place. I think children need the fantasy that Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and other childhood mythical creatures bring."

Now I am even more torn.  I believe that Children need fantasy.  I try and cater to the fantasy and imagination that Genghis loves.  And while I agree that reality can be a cold, hard place, I do not think that Genghis's reality is anywhere near cold or hard. 

Then I wonder where the line is drawn.  If we do Santa, even to an extent, do we then need to add the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy?  Is there a way to in-cooperate some of the magic of Santa without lying to your child about it?  Does anyone want a husband who makes my head spin and causes me to question the one logical parenting choice I thought I had all figured out?