My oldest son is 10 and he believes in Santa.
But for how much longer?
It is one of those issues in parenting that nobody warns you about: when to admit that Santa’s not real.
This has been on my mind for the past two years. When my son was eight going on nine, my husband and I were certain he’d figure it out. He had too much common sense not to. He started asking questions like, “How does Santa fit in the chimney?” and “How can Santa possibly get to everybody’s house in one night?” We saw the wheels spinning in his little mind and were sure that by Christmas day, he’d see it was all a farce.
But somehow, we made it through two more Christmases without a hitch.
Now, he’s ten. He is in 5th grade. Middle school. No way will he be on board this year. No way!
Or will he?
Last night, out of nowhere he said to me, “Luke told me there’s no Santa…but obviously there is [silent pause] … right, mom?”
My mind raced: What do I say? Do I fess up? Come clean? Let him in on the secret? Is now the time? We’re alone in the car… now would be the perfect time.
But it was so clear to me in that moment that he really wanted to believe. So I immediately threw out the old standby line: “You’ve got to believe to receive, honey.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I need to get going on my list. What do I want this year?”
Conversation over.
But I felt horrible. Is he at that age now where it’s nothing more than a lie? He trusts me to be honest with him. And with everything else in life, I pretty much am. But I could hear in his voice that he just wasn’t ready to hear this particular truth.
And this wasn’t this first time he broached the topic with me. A few months ago, he told me about a conversation he’d had with another friend:
“Mom, Josh said that the mom and dad put the presents under the tree, not Santa. But I told him that’s not possible because my mom would never stay up till 12:00.”
At that time, all I could think to say was, “Seriously! My bed time is 10:00!”
So I began to wonder: Is he the only one who still believes? Am I setting him up for ridicule at school?
Unsure of the answer, I called a friend to see where her son, an 11-year-old who teeters on the precipice of puberty, stands on the matter. And to my delight, I discovered that her son had just asked his mom to mail his letter to Santa so it would get there early this year.
Okay, so mine is not the only one still hanging on. My boy will not, as I feared, be the laughing stock of the 5th grade.
But all night this weighed heavy on my mind. I pondered and I thought. I thought and I pondered. When is the right time to tell him? Is there ever a right time? What do I do about his friends who no longer believe?
Then I remembered a conversation I’d had a while back with a friend of mine who’s kids are now grown. She once told me that she’s never had the Santa’s-not-real conversation with their kids. No… she and her husband always told the kids that Santa lived in their hearts. As her kids grew, even through the teen years, the presents under the tree were from Santa. No one questioned it. No one complained.
With that idea in mind, I found comfort. By the end of the night, I concluded that I had responded to my son appropriately. I am not doing him a disservice by keeping him from the truth. I am keeping the magic alive in his world—something that he clearly craves.
Both of my boys will run into the know-it-all kids who feel the need to spill the beans. I cannot stop it or control it. All I can do is try to keep the spirit of Christmas going strong within the confines of my home.
Maybe the time will come—maybe even next week—when he will ask me that question and my gut will advise me to respond differently. But for now, we’re hanging on. For now, Santa is a part of our lives; He is part of our family; He is part of our Christmas.
Life in motion 