I realized over this wonderful Thanksgiving Holiday that some of my own family members don’t know this about us so I thought I’d share why (and how) we don’t do Santa at our house. Well, at least I don’t. Please don’t read this if you will be offended by someone who doesn’t really like the whole Santa thing. Cuz you will probably be offended. But you will get to learn a little something more about Melissa and her crazy ways. It’s your call. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya…

First off… I was the kid who showed up at Kindergarten literally never having heard of Santa before. There we were there coloring our little coloring sheets of some fat guy and of course I was coloring him rainbow stripes or something, just like everything, until my peer told me I was coloring him wrong… “whaddya mean WRONG? It’s MY picture!” was my response, until several informed me it was some guy named “Santa Claus” and he’s red and green. SO I colored his suit green… no no, the suit is red, the mittens are green… Okay… weirdness. So I ask my Dad when I get home about this Santa Claus deal, and of course he informs me that he was Saint Nicholaus and he went around paying the dowries for poor girls to marry and he traditionally wore green and rode on a goat. I really think I could have done without the green and goat part, though it was probably for the best as I shared my new-found knowledge with all my friends and they just thought my dad was either crazy or pulling my leg.

We never put out cookies for Santa. I never listened for reindeer and sleighbells. The only thing I ever got from Santa was an I.O.U.. Not once did my parents encourage me to believe nor assume I did believe (the I.O.U. was an open joke). I never believed he was a magical entity that would grant my wishes. It was just not something we ever did. Do I wish we had? Not a bit. I’m grateful for that one bit of transparency we had in our family.

Now let me clarify, I do remember getting dressed up to sit on “Santa’s” lap for pictures one year, and I loved the whole giant candyland kind of display I got to walk through to get there, but it was weird being asked to sit on a strange man’s lap and tell him what I wanted for Christmas, knowing full well he was just a stranger who would never (I hoped) come to my house.  We did put out stockings and my parents generally didn’t have ALL the presents out until after we went to bed, so it was always fun to see what was new Christmas morning. But I loved that Christmas was about celebrating the Savior, finding good gifts for my siblings, receiving good gifts from the same, and enjoying our love as a family. I didn’t miss Santa, and in fact I’ve always felt like he was an intruder on my favorite holiday. I remember vividly meeting a girl in college who was STILL bitter that her parents tricked her into believing something that wasn’t true for all those years. She didn’t figure it out until she was twelve.

I really believe in being totally honest with my kids in everything, and the whole Santa thing is in direct violation of that principle. And really, it just feels so totally contrived for me. It’s not just carrying on a beloved tradition as it is for most, it would be deliberately creating a new one to divert my family’s attention from the real reason of the holiday. And yes, I do believe the birth of Jesus Christ is the real reason for the holiday.

So we don’t do Santa. At least I don’t do Santa. We do occasionally find our home infiltrated by Santa movies or Santa books, but it’s just a story. When Neils asked me the first time if he was real (he was 5 or 6) I asked if he really wanted to know, he said yes and I told him. He looked a little disappointed and I said if he wanted to pretend anyway we could play the Santa game as long as he knows it’s not real. So he talks about Santa and all the rest, but Conan and I have made sure even the little ones know it’s just a game, and that Santa isn’t real. We do let them know other children really do believe and their parents really want them to believe so they shouldn’t say he isn’t real, and for the most part that seems to work fine.

But if my child asks your child if they play the Santa game, I would like to apologize, but I really can’t. I don’t see why I can’t keep Christmas in my way and you in yours and we all just tell our children, “some people believe in Santa Claus, and some don’t.” It will be interesting to see how things evolve as the kids grow. I won’t “steal” the “joy” of Santa from anyone, not even my own kids, but if they get into it it’s because the culture lied to them, but never me.