The Power of Santa

I have a confession to make. You might want to sit down for this one because it really seems to blow people's minds when I tell them this.

I have never ever, even for one day in my life, believed in Santa Claus.

Crazy, huh? It's because of my parents. They made some kind of decision when we were little to just be straight up honest with us about the whole Santa Claus/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy thing from the start. I think it was more my dad's decision than anyone else's, but they've always just said that they felt like it was wrong for adults to lie to children about stuff like that. So I don't know, maybe he was really traumatized by finding out the truth when he was a kid? But anyway, we've (my sisters and I) never believed in Santa.

I know what you may be thinking. "It's not a lie! It's part of the magic of childhood." That's what most people say. I remember when I taught Kindergarten and I told my teaching partner (who is the most Kindey-ish Kindergarten teacher you will ever meet), her eyes opened wide and her face melted into this incredibly sympathetic expression that I think most people save for starving Africans or cancer patients. "How saaaaaaaaaaaad!" she wailed. She was so distraught that I felt compelled to assure her that the Christmas magic was still there- just like all the other kids, we were always too excited to sleep the night before. We still ran out to find our stockings and tons of presents under the tree. The difference was only that we knew our parents put them there. At Easter we still got baskets and did an egg hunt. When we lost a tooth we woke up to a note under our pillow that led to a huge hunt for clues that eventually led us to our tooth money. It was awesome and fun.

Still, no one believes me when I say it wasn't sad. So as I've grown into an adult, it's become apparent to me that in Christmas Country, I am akin to a foreign exchange student. I am on complete and total alien soil. And because of this, I may have misinterpreted a few traditions here and there.

Poor Mr. C. spent December of the first year we were married doing damage control while I unwittingly and unknowingly tore holes right and left in the whole Santa Conspiracy thing. I didn't know I couldn't take my stepson 9 shopping for stocking stuffers with me. Who knew that Santa had sole rights to stuffing all the stockings? And really? Does everyone wrap the "Santa Presents" in different top secret wrapping paper? I was also totally surprised to learn that I was expected to stock the vegetable crisper with carrots for the reindeer AND that I had to write a "thank you for the cookies and carrots" letter from Santa (using cleverly disguised handwriting, of course).

At the end of the month, I told Mr. C that the whole Santa thing was too much work and that when we had our own kids, I'd prefer not to participate thank you very much.

But then I discovered the power of Santa.

The power of Santa is just so good. I started out only using it once and a while. I wasn't going to use it all, but 2 yr. old Princess G had already learned about St. Nick from her big brother. So one day when she and I were engaged in a power struggle of some sort, I let the words "Fine. But Santa Claus is watching you!" slip out from my lips. And she gave up! It was so easy that it gave me a little high. So when J got old enough, I started using it on him too. And that's when it got a little out of control. Like I said, it's a type of high.

In the months of November and December, you won't find a disciplinarian lazier than me. I'm more than happy to make Santa the fall guy for any unpopular rules or expectations around here. You don't want to eat your veggies? Fine with me, but Santa may not like it. What's that? You don't want to take a nap? Well, you know.... Santa really likes little boys and girls who listen to their mommies when they say it's nap time. Oh, I'm sorry! Were you complaining about having to clean your room? I'll make sure to call Santa and tell him your opinion on chores.

It's possible that I've abused the power of Santa just slightly. My kids are no dummies. They are more than a little suspicious that I'm using Santa to basically bully them into obedience. They just haven't figured out yet what their counter attack is going to be. And every time I deal the Santa card I see J's eyes narrow and I'm pretty sure his hooligan little mind is thinking something along the lines of "Ya, Santa can suck it." He just doesn't quite have the cajones yet. I've got a few years.

So, how many moms do you know who've managed to make their own children hate Santa Claus? It's terrible, I know. I've taken all the fun out of St. Nick. For this, I'm sure the Big Guy will drop a few lumps of coal into my stocking. But not before I enjoy a few more weeks of peace and quiet.

You all have a good night.