I love Santa Claus. As a parent I’ve been occasionally miffed that sometimes Santa gets the glory of the really good gifts, but overall, Santa is magical and I can’t hold the gift thing against him (especially because THIS year, Santa will bring the kids the things they asked for BUT the really awesome surprise gifts are from us, so nyah to you Santa!).

I believed in Santa for a remarkably long time, all things considered. I was about 11 when I finally accepted the truth; I had started to falter by 10, but I wanted to believe so badly that I hung in there for one more year. When I was with my mother one day in Toys R Us, she saw something my sister wanted from Santa and it was on sale for that day only. She looked at me, looked at the toy, and asked me, “do you still believe in Santa?” I looked at the toy I knew my sister had written to Santa about and I knew why she was asking, and I said, “no, but it was a lot of fun to believe!”

I was never crushed, since I had suspected as much for a year or so anyway. And I was never angry with my mother and father for “lying” to me, because I didn’t see it as lying. It was pretending, it was make believe. My mother routinely played Barbies with me, pretending the dolls were real and that they were living exciting lives. My father played Hot Wheels cars with me almost every night after supper and we pretended they tiny cars had tiny people who drove them around in their tiny, busy little lives. They were not lying to me when they played, they were taking part in the magical world of play. And when it came to Santa, they weren’t lying, they were taking part in the magical world of elves and reindeer who fly and giant toy shops in the middle of a land of ice and cold.

I was sad to no longer believe but I had a good long run. I don’t know how no one ever ruined it for me prior to that because kids are notoriously mean to each other. When Hayley started school I feared someone, especially an older kid, would tell her the truth earlier than I’d like her to know. So far her belief seems intact, and if it’s shaken then I don’t know about it yet. I want her to believe as long as she possibly can, and Breanna too. It will be of the utmost importance that she does not spoil it for Breanna when the day of truth comes. I will remind her of how much fun it was to write a letter to Santa and get one back, how much she enjoyed setting out milk and cookies for Santa on the 24th, and how giddy she got when she would visit Santa at the mall, and I will ask her to let her sister have that too.

So far, though? So good. On Friday we went to one of the malls that usually has reindeer in a petting zoo. To our enormous disappointment, they didn’t have them this year but there was no line-up for Santa yet, being before 3 pm on the last day of pre-vacation school, so we let them go see Santa, talk to him, and get some free hugs.

They were so happy and it made my heart sing. This Santa gave them “magic” washcloths – they’re tiny little blocks but when you put them in the water they pop open to full sized cloths with Santa decorations on them. They were thrilled.

Then on Saturday, I actually dressed them for the purpose of getting photos taken and we went to a smaller mall to see another Santa. Again, they stood and blushed and chattered at him, and then they took a picture. I could not get Breanna to look at the camera because she was so bashful in that “oh my god, a celebrity!” way but it’s so cute I don’t care. This Santa gave Hayley a stuffed frog and Breanna a stuffed dragon and both girls have slept with their special Santa gifts each night since.

I love the magic of Christmas. I hate shopping but for my kids I will do anything and everything to give them a happy and wonderful 25th – and the magical belief in a man in a red suit with flying reindeer is all part of the tradition. I hope they believe for a long time.