"Outing Santa" - how? what do you think?

[C.Ann]

Childhood goes by in a flash. There is nothing wrong in stretching the magic.

So long as my child still believes I would explain to him that not everyone has the same believes as we do and that just because others do not believe or do believe does not make it any less or more real.

Children today grow up way too soon. There is nothing wrong with letting them be kids and believe for as long as they can.

Being ridiculed is something you have to deal with for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to have the same opinion/believe as you.

Santa adds that extra touch of Magic to Christmas that is not there anymore.

 

[WDWKOOK]

What a heart-warming thread.

My DD11 (only-child) mentioned last year that she "knew that Santa is really your parents". I refused to play along and admit her new-found knowledge was accurate. I just can't bear to hear myself say it out-loud. It just doesn't seem right. For 10 years it was a much coveted secret and I played the part admirably. How can I give-up that role?

This will be our DD's first Christmas away from home with us. After her shocking revelation last year, I felt we could (finally) be on vacation on Christmas Day without feeling like Santa's magic would be missing when we mysteriously schlep all of these presents along with us!

Even after her admitting that she "knew", I still want the presents to magically appear on Christmas morning in the hotel room. However, it's a suite and DD will be sleeping in the living room right in front of the fireplace where the presents will "appear."

Sorry if I'm hijacking, but does anyone have any ideas on how I can pull this off without the possibility of DD catching us in the act? Even though she "knows", I still want the presents to somehow "magically appear".

 

[crashbb]

P.S

My parents still sign gifts from Santa and still won't admit it's from then. It's FUN to keep the idea going!

I asked my dad a few years ago whether it had been him or my mum that had eaten the cookies we left out for Santa.

His response?

"It was Santa". No amount of question from me could get a different answer.

 

[kidzmom3]

One of the things that strikes me the most about Santa is that belief in him is not really the same thing as religious beliefs. Everyone knows that there is not a magical person who delivers toys to the kids of the world in one night. How do we know? Because as parents, we are the ones who buy, wrap and put out the gifts. You can believe in the spirit of Santa, but to look at a child that is asking "is there a Santa Claus" and lie to them and say that there is. That just strikes me as wrong.

Just my opinion

 

[Wall-E1]

Wait!!! What are you people saying?!?!??! No Santa?!?!??! Then who the heck is that middle aged, overweight man who I see coming out of my fireplace each year? Now I'm concerned. Should I call the authorities?

 

[DisMomme]

The year my youngest son told me he knew Santa was just his Dad & I, I called my neighbor and cried while I told her. I asked my son if we should bring his older brother in to talk also and he said to me "No Momma, let's let him believe in the magic a little while longer" My neighbor sent me the e-mail below. The next year my son & I did this for a family....so he could pass on the magic.


I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even
dummies know that!"
>
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day
because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
>
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her
everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted....
"Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years,
and it ma kes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
>
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my Second
World-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store,
the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.
>
As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a
bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for
someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
>
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and
crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For
a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,
wondering what to buy, and who on ear th to buy it for. I thought of
everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school,
the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I
suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy
hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
>
Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to
recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill
with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a
red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like
that.
>
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly.
"It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby
really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
>
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of
the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons
and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house,
explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of
Santa's helpers.
>
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept
noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me
a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep
breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step,
pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
>
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering,
beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that
those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they
were, ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
>
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
>
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care. And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

 

[binny]

I once felt compelled to sit my then-11 year old son down and tell him the truth about Santa Claus (and our truth is the same as yours, regarding St. Nicholas and Christ).

I have regretted it ever since.

It broke my heart to see his sad face when I told him. He's 15 now and each Christmas I feel a tad guilty to think that I purposefully ended the magic, just because I thought he was getting "too old" to believe. He would have learned the truth eventually, why did I have to squash it?

In our case, Santa brings each child one gift. The rest of the presents are from mom and dad.

Maybe you don't need to tell your son that Santa isn't real... maybe you just need to tell him that it's not Santa who fulfills the wish list. That's a good lesson to learn anytime!

Good luck!

I'm sorry that happened but THANK YOU for sharing your story!

I am in the exact same place. Part of me thinks "enough already" in that I don't want her to be teased about it. Another part wants to hold on to that innocence as long as I can.

Thank you OP for asking. I had debated asking the same question on Sunday.

 

[luvsJack]

One of the things that strikes me the most about Santa is that belief in him is not really the same thing as religious beliefs. Everyone knows that there is not a magical person who delivers toys to the kids of the world in one night. How do we know? Because as parents, we are the ones who buy, wrap and put out the gifts. You can believe in the spirit of Santa, but to look at a child that is asking "is there a Santa Claus" and lie to them and say that there is. That just strikes me as wrong.

Just my opinion

Why? Why is it so wrong? Its not hurting them in any way. And many, many times kids ask their mom and dad because they want to continue believing. What is so wrong with allowing them to believe? I think its fun to imagine that Santa's workshop and the magical elves making the toys and Mrs. Claus baking Christmas cookies.

When I go to WDW I don't go around saying "Mickey's not real"; I look for Mickey and Minnie and all the rest and we go to them for pictures and we enjoy the characters that are part of the magic.

Why is it so wrong to enjoy that same kind of magic at Christmas with Santa?

Besides--I don't know what goes on in your world, but in my world he is very real.

 

[kidzmom3]

The year my youngest son told me he knew Santa was just his Dad & I, I called my neighbor and cried while I told her. I asked my son if we should bring his older brother in to talk also and he said to me "No Momma, let's let him believe in the magic a little while longer" My neighbor sent me the e-mail below. The next year my son & I did this for a family....so he could pass on the magic.


I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even
dummies know that!"
>
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day
because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
>
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her
everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted....
"Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years,
and it ma kes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
>
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my Second
World-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store,
the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.
>
As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a
bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for
someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
>
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and
crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For
a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,
wondering what to buy, and who on ear th to buy it for. I thought of
everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school,
the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I
suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy
hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
>
Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to
recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill
with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a
red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like
that.
>
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly.
"It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby
really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
>
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of
the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons
and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house,
explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of
Santa's helpers.
>
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept
noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me
a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep
breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step,
pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
>
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering,
beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that
those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they
were, ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
>
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
>
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care. And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

I love this story and it is an example of the "Santa" or "Christmas Spirit" that people should have during this season. But it does not tell parents that they should lie to their children about the existence of a magical figure.

 

[purpletiger]

Funny I came across this thread cuz just last night my DS7 came up to me last night and said "Mommy, so and so in my class doesn't believe in Santa. They are making the Christmas spirit go down." I just said "well honey, some people don't believe, that is why you need to believe for them so the Christmas spirit stays up." I pulled that comment out of nowhere and he was fine with it. He went in his room and nothing more was said.

So, yes my DD11 and DS7 both still believe. DD has asked if Santa was real and I just told her once you quit believing he quits coming. I think she's getting more curious but she still acts like she believes. I'm going to let them believe as long as I can. I love having them wake us up on Christmas morning with surprised little faces and they are so excited they can't stand it. Last Christmas my DS came in our room and said "Mommy, get up Santa came. Oh, I turned on your coffee." LOL

 

[Halbleib1]

Adding to the off topic-ness. I went to public school and read "Are you there God its me Margaret". Granted it wasn't required reading by the school, but it was in the school library and we all checked it out and read it.

Honestly I had never heard of the book until now. I did look up what it is about and agree it sounds like a great book. In my research I found that many public libraries not just school libraries are banning the book from the shelves.

Not sure of the ages of those that read it while in school but I only graduated 10 years ago and I never heard of the book. Also neither of my sisters had read it in school.

We got the "girl" talk in 4th and 5th grades and were sent home with a book from the always company explaining how our bodies worked. That was pretty much it.

 

[Halbleib1]

Why? Why is it so wrong? Its not hurting them in any way. And many, many times kids ask their mom and dad because they want to continue believing. What is so wrong with allowing them to believe? I think its fun to imagine that Santa's workshop and the magical elves making the toys and Mrs. Claus baking Christmas cookies.

When I go to WDW I don't go around saying "Mickey's not real"; I look for Mickey and Minnie and all the rest and we go to them for pictures and we enjoy the characters that are part of the magic.

Why is it so wrong to enjoy that same kind of magic at Christmas with Santa?

Besides--I don't know what goes on in your world, but in my world he is very real.

Parents have to decide for themselves what they feel is right to tell their kids. I have a sister that never told her daughter one way or the other and let her form her own believes. I don't think she even wrote on any of the tags from santa. She just let her daughter form her own believes. I think my niece might have thought that mom and dad helped santa out. The rest of the kids in my family have always believed and would always ask her what santa brought her. She has never said that she does not believe. Maybe her mom and dad had a talk with her I do not know for sure. Every parent has to decide how far they are willing to take it. Personally for me I see nothing wrong with letting my son believe for as long as possible. So many kids today just grow up way too fast. I am grateful my parents and older siblings never told me the truth and let me believe for as long as I did.

 

[2girlsmom]

I was talked into telling my kids about the real St Nicholas, etc. about 4 years ago (they were only 5 and 7 at the time!) and they both understood that, but I think both decided that they didn't want to hear it, cause now at 11 and 9 they both still "believe", they never stopped. I am glad about it, cause I don't see any harm in their believing in the magic of christmas, and santa to me is part of that. I don't think there is any harm in letting older kids in on the secret that we act as Santa or his helpers, etc, but I'm not sure at 11 that the OP's son is really ready for that.

 

[akhenaten]

What the heck do you mean, there isn't a Santa?! That's crazy talk!

It is !!
I belive in Santa and that is what I tell my children too!!
(They are 21,15 and 7)

 

[Lachesis00]

I absolutely love this story. Thank you for sharing it.

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even
dummies know that!"
>
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day
because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
>
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her
everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted....
"Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years,
and it ma kes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
>
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my Second
World-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store,
the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.
>
As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a
bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for
someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and
walked out of Kerby's.
>
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but
never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and
crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For
a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,
wondering what to buy, and who on ear th to buy it for. I thought of
everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school,
the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I
suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy
hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
>
Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to
recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't
have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill
with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a
red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like
that.
>
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter
asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly.
"It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby
really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
>
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of
the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons
and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house,
explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of
Santa's helpers.
>
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept
noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me
a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep
breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step,
pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
>
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering,
beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that
those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they
were, ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
>
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
>
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care. And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

 

[dalt01]

OUTING SANTA?????????????? and Meredith Baxter??? whos next?????

 

[akhenaten]

I did "out" the tooth fairy to my oldest DD when she was about 11 or so....
I thought for sure she did not "believe " anymore and I had over slept and the visit had not happened... boy did I feel bad...