Spoiler Alert this post is about the magic of Christmas, parental lies, and when it's time to come clean with your kids.
I am happy that my kids were gifted with many magical holiday seasons with Santa for many years. While there is a movement of parents who never want to deceive their children about Santa, and I respect that (so long as you or your kids don't spoil the magic of believing for others), we've always been team Santa is magic. That chapter has ended, and now my kids are both entirely on board for helping make Christmas magic for little kids everywhere, particularly their little cousins.
The beginning of the end
Our son Jack was recently diagnosed with High Functioning Autism (HFA), level one autism, what used to be known as Aspergers. Since the confirmation of his diagnosis (something we have suspected for years) I have heightened my research on everything we can do to help Jack become as successful and happy as possible.
There appears to be a consistent link between people on the autism spectrum and lying, specifically them not lying and having little patience for those who do. Jack is no different. He'll play practical jokes, but he won't lie and is not comfortable lying. When I say "I love you more." to him, he pulls a complete Han Solo and says, "I know." He also hates being lied to (I mean, who likes being lied to, but you know what I mean). When I read an article written by a woman with autism who describes finding out about Santa ending her faith in spirituality and God, I figured it was probably time to come clean with Jack.
When I was in grade six or seven, our teacher "gifted" us the job of responding to Santa letters from the kindergarten kids because it was the 1980s, Christmas was still a part of the public school experience each December. Because we were in middle school, our teacher assumed that we already knew the truth about the big S. This was how a sweet, only-child friend of mine found out the truth about Santa. She was disappointed and sad. I didn't want that for Jack, or worse have him be teased by other kids for being a believer.
My intel
One day, in early November, when Molly and I were out together, just the two of us, I asked her if she still believed. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. As soon as I assured her that the stockings and the present train wouldn't stop no matter what she said, she came clean. Apparently, she found an old letter she'd sent to the big S two years ago that had fallen behind Chris' dresser, confirming her suspicions. When I asked her if Jack knew, she said, "probably? We've never really talked about it."
The big talk
About a week later, I pulled Molly aside. As we made the big reveal, one thing was apparent: HE HAD NO CLUE. We gave him a few moments to process and told him it was okay to be mad at us. He was quiet for a few minutes and then had some very valid questions. What about the Norad Santa tracker on Christmas Eve? What about all the holiday movies where someone loses their sense of Christmas magic and is proven wrong? He told us he was a little annoyed at us but got it and that he'd eventually forgive us. He also told us that although he is happy that he heard the news from us, he wishes he had another year or two with the magic.
Inside jokes
A couple of weeks later, when we were decorating our tree, the Christmas song I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus came on, and Jack began to giggle. When I asked him what was so funny, he replied "I just got it!". All holiday season Jack has been having a blast pointing out Santa related "inside jokes" to the rest of us.
Happy Holidays from our family to yours!
