Dear Santa, I may be a grown woman and a mum to two, but I believe in you.
I believe in your magic, your joy and your love for all. I am still in awe of the way you manage to bring the spirit of Christmas to children all around the world.
My children love you, Santa, and I love the way that ‘you’ have filled my own life with wonder and the thrill of magic. You will be welcome in our home for as long as we can possibly keep that magic alive.
And here’s why.
Our kids are growing up in a world where we want immediate results and we expect instant feedback.
Everything needs to be “right now”. I am just as guilty of this in some aspects of my life. Oh but Santa, the minute we see those Christmas decorations flood the shopping centres and chocolate Santa’s hit the supermarket aisles, we simply have to learn to ‘wait’. Our kids need to learn how to manage this. They have to understand that waiting for something truly special is very much worth it. Anticipation is such a sweet ingredient of the build up to the big day. Let the ‘how many sleeps’ countdown begin.
Santa, you show us that a gift given with love is worth far more than a whole swag of rubbish.
I grew up listening to Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. As this played on repeat, my own Mum silently longed for real snow and her loved ones a long way away in Ireland. She plucked cotton balls from the medicine cabinet and sprinkled them across our freshly cut Christmas tree. The smell of pine needles hung thick in the air as we sat at the kitchen table and carefully crafted our letters to you at the North Pole. Skate boards, cassette tapes, bikes, clothes; we wanted the ‘lot’.
However, as a family of five kids, we generally received just the one or two special gifts from you, Santa. Often the larger items on our wish lists were overlooked and we were OK with that. We were simply amazed that you really did know us best. Please guide me with this special life lesson, Santa. It is so incredibly easy to get caught up in the hype and gift our kids mountains of plastic that are broken or left on the shelf within days. Whilst I am aware there is much more to Christmas than just the gifts and goodies, help us to teach our kids the skills of keeping secrets, and the etiquette that goes along with giving and receiving gifts.
Santa, you help us to keep our behaviour in check and remind us there are consequences for our actions.
In fact, to be honest, I am very much in awe of the way you can manage the behaviour of my own children, with simply the mere mention of your name. I know some parents grapple with this concept of transparency and role modelling honesty (each to their own), but I am grateful for every single joy filled, ‘Christmassy’ white lie my parents ever told me. These were gifts in their own right. If I have to play the, “Santa will NOT be happy with that behaviour” card, then I will! And if it means the kids choose to keep their rooms relatively tidy and volunteer to help out more in the lead up to Christmas, then I am all for it. Santa, please continue to keep an eye on my kids from the North Pole.
You remind us that home really is where the heart is.
I do not know how you manage it, Santa, but even when kids are away from home for the holidays, you can find them. You see, ‘home’ is not about the bricks and mortar, rather home is where your loved ones are. Family is what really matters, and you will find us, even if we are staying in a caravan park, in an airport hotel or at Nanna’s house.
You remind me of the innocence of my own childhood.
When the kids talk about you, Santa, their faces glow. You encapsulate the glitter of possibilities and you really do keep their belief in magic alive. In a world where some terrible things truly happen, we really need you. I remember hearing the hooves of your reindeers on our roof one Christmas Eve, and we even found carrots and hoof prints in the veggie garden the next day! You managed to get down the chimney, relax with milk and cookies, deliver us gifts and WE SLEPT THROUGH IT! Wonderful, exciting magic really can happen.
And then this happened….
“I don’t believe in the Tooth Fairy,” my 7-year-old whispered to me last weekend.
I can tell you, Santa, my heart was thumping, and it took every ounce of my mothering being not to wrap my baby up in my arms and protect him from the sometimes harsh reality of growing up. But he was just ‘fishing’ and I quickly assured him that your friend, the Tooth Fairy, was indeed real. His little face smiled and his body relaxed as his little world of magic and miracles was restored.
Santa, please help me to keep you alive in the hearts and minds of my babies for as long as I can.
**If any of this rings true for you and your kids are getting that bit older, you may need to have a look at How to Answer Your Kids’ Extra Tricky Questions About Santa.