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Our visit with Santa last year at Disneyland

At a playdate this morning, a friend of mine was telling me how this would probably be the last Christmas that her 9-year-old would believe in Santa.  I made a pouty face, commenting on how sad it was that her oldest would no longer believe. 

But I quickly remembered that it was around that same age that I learned the truth about Santa.  On Christmas Eve, circa 1980, unable to sleep I wondered into my mother's bedroom only to find her standing on a stool getting down all of my Santa presents from the hiding place in her closet. 

Just as I was saying, "Mom, I can't..." she started yelling,"Get back to bed!  Get back to bed!"  Her reaction said it all.

As parents, we all know that our children will eventually figure out the truth about the famous fat man and his sleigh.  Whether someone bursts the bubble for us or we figure it out all on our own, there will come a time when no longer believe.  I just didn't realize that my 5-year-old would be bombarded with all of the cold, hard facts at such a young age.

Driving carpool today, I asked one of the kids in our car if she had gone to see Santa yet.

"I don't believe in Santa," she told me.  "My mom and dad told me that he isn't real."

I didn't have time to say anything before the Cheese said, "Yes he is!  He is too real!"

"No he isn't," she said again.  "Santa isn't real."

I quickly tried to change the subject, but the kids weren't having it.  We were stuck at a red light that seemed like it was never going to change; only giving these young debaters more time to argue.

"He is too real," my son said again.  I had never heard him speak with such passion about anything before.  "Santa can make all of your wishes come true," he told her.

My heart was melting and breaking at the same time.  

With a calm tone she replied, "Your mom and dad give you the presents.  Not Santa."

Okay.  Now I was starting to get upset, which totally felt unnatural considering that the person that I was getting upset with one of the sweetest little 5-year-olds that you could ever meet.  I had no problem with the fact that she didn't believe, but I didn't want her spoiling it for my son.  I also knew that I had to respect her parents wishes and not try to tell her otherwise. 

Finally arriving at the school the kids started to hop out to run to class, but I told the Cheese to wait for a minute.   

"Sweetie, it's okay if she doesn't believe.  What matters is that you do.  If you believe that Santa is real, then that's all that matters.  Okay?"

"Okay, but I know that he's real."

Santa might not be the reason for the season, but at our house we still believe.