The Between Time
I Fail at Parenting to Save My Daughter's Magic
We are at a place where it’s entirely possible my daughter knows - knows in her heart - that I am Santa and I am Tutu her Elf on a Shelf, and she’s simply not ready to let go of the magic; or possibly, knowing her, she’s not ready to let go of the relative benefits of not telling me that she knows.
Regardless, I’m guessing this holiday season might be it. We are in the Between Time.
Of course, I have a little speech about the true meaning of Christmas and magic all prepared, but something happened recently that illustrates how ill-prepared I am to give it.
Around dinner, with several of her friends, one of them came out and said the unsayable. He said that Santa, though a lovely concept, is not real and that his parents are the ones that wrap and place presents under the tree for him.
My daughter looked over at me. Suddenly that moment had come. Unexpectedly, my hand was forced. This was the time, now, with a table full of children looking up at me - with my daughter’s wide, expressive eyes begging me to make things right - to step up as her father, as mine did to me, and inch her closer to adulthood.
Instead, in a loud, steady voice, I said, “Maybe the reason only his parents give him gifts is because he’s a bad boy and doesn’t get any from Santa.”
The children howled in laughter (except the boy obviously). My daughter grinned wide at me. I had saved her, at perhaps the cost of a bit of my own humanity, but her magic remained intact. And I’d do it again for that grin.
There will come a day when she doesn’t believe in Santa. But not today. Not today.
HAAAAAAA!! Brilliant! There is nothing that will instantly put you in a state of fear and panic than those moments. The end is near my friend...it will be a sad day.
I'm... well, I believe in Santa. I taught our kids that Santa is a spirit, and because I'm pagan, they know that doesn't mean a pretend thing. Spirits can work through people. So when it came time for the kids to "know" that the parents were Santa, they already knew that Santa worked *through* us... but Santa is Santa. Now that they're almost adults, they get into the *spirit* themselves, and Santa often finds his way into the parents' stockings as well. To me, that's the *real* magic. The joy of giving something, even a small thing, with no expectation of a pat on the back. :)