When I became a mother, I never wanted to pretend to be Santa Claus.
I didn’t want to participate in the big lie. Instead of magic, I thought the Santa myth was a bunch of overrated bologna. It didn’t make sense to me to buy presents for my kids and then pretend that some fictional character had actually given those gifts. I didn’t want to put my kids on a stranger man’s lap. And I never wanted to convince them that someone would sneak into our house at night while we were sleeping and knew if they had been naughty or nice. The whole pseudo-omniscience thing just really didn’t sit well with me.
I didn’t want anything to do with Santa. Or his sleigh. Or his reindeer. Or any of it. But it turned out, this whole Santa thing actually had very little to do with me. Continue reading “How Santa Started Visiting Our House”
It’s not easy to admit you’ve made a mistake. As a parent, it’s even harder. What I did was wrong and I can’t even apologize to my son because I don’t want to remind him that for years, I told him that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny aren’t real. I put my own ideals before the needs of my child. I strongly believe that lying to kids is wrong, but I let that get in the way of being a good mother. My little boy wanted to believe in magic. He wanted to be like the other kids and I didn’t allow that. Instead, I put myself first. Continue reading “I Regret Telling My Child There Is No Easter Bunny”