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Renee CK

writer, editor, tweetable http://twitter.com/chicskirt

I'm a fun girl who's on a quest to figure it all out. I'm cynical but living the dream- I'm not sure how that happened exactly. Follow along in my blog for fun, mayhem, and merriment. There's never a dull day! (Or, go download my book!)...

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The Cost of Keeping a Secret

My son is 9. Last year as I was arranging cookies, The Christmas Song came on the radio.  “And every mother’s child is gonna spy to see if reindeer really know how to fly”.  I lost it. Sobbed into my hand towel. Would this be the year my son would stop being a mother’s child and learn the Santa secret?  Undoubtedly he’d learn from some snot-nose 9 year-old who was held back and has been itching to burst that bubble of innocence.  Thankfully that did not happen- last year.  Now we’re back to another Christmas season and I have a hefty price on the head of the child who dares to steal my son’s ability to blindly trust in something so simple and magical.  This is the first step towards doubt about the many wonders of the world which can not be seen with our eyes but felt with our hearts.  Why, to lose the belief in Santa is tantamount to losing your belief in love. Afterall, it’s just a silly emotion that causes you to do stupid things.

In the name of disclosure, I will tell you that I actually still believe in Santa.  Yes, I do.  I know that he’s not a fat man who lives at the North Pole with a bunch of little people.  Trust me, I know he doesn’t come down the chimney since I was up past the broadcast of the Pope’s midnight mass putting together doll house toys and a huge bow on a bicycle last year before I tried to quietly place them in the living room by myself since hubby knocked out before el Papa’s invocation.  Instead, Santa is that warmth in our hearts this time of year.  Santa is the part of us that looks left and looks right to make sure no one is looking before we drop a gift on a desk of our designated office Secret Santa. He’s the reason you buy that stupid little keychain for your sister because it screams her, even though you’ve agreed not to get anything for each other this year.  He can also be a fat man with a white beard who your child stares wide-eyed at while waiting to check out at the grocery store to which he replies “have you been a good girl this year?” with a wink and when he turns his back to you, you see the Orange County Choppers emblem on his coat.

Here I am at Christmastime 2008 with another precarious season upon me.  I must carefully monitor who my child visits with.  I have to be ready to answer questions that come with his increasing logic in a way that makes no sense to his logical mind.

My friend and her husband own a gaming store where their soon-to-be 9 year-old son is the “floor manager” because he knows all of the games they have.  PS3, Game Cube, and, of course Wii.  But now he’s decided that he wants a Wii at home.  My friend reminded him that he gets to play with Wii all day at the store and told him she doesn’t think they need one at home.  He got a knowing look in his eye and said “If Santa is real, he’ll bring me a Wii.”  I laughed empathetically with her.

Toys R Us has a great wish list feature where kids can look through the online store and set up a list for grandparent, aunts, and well meaning friends to look at from the comfort of their own home.  I let my kids do it, taking each of them into my room to use my computer and guide their choices.  My son isn’t asking for much.  But, what he does want is a $399 Lego Death Star.  Yes friends, you read it right, 400 dollar. 3803 pieces.  Neither of those seem to faze him so I pointed out the 12+ age range.  That’s okay, dad will help.  I said that he’s working on a Lego city made of various typical Legos, not a Death Star.  He’d rather work on a Death Star.  And then he said it.  “I’ll ask Santa for it.”  Wah wah, wah waaaaaaaaaaaah.

Now I’m stuck.  How can I not get it for him?  How can I be the one to plant the seed that Santa isn’t real?  But how can I justify a $400 “toy” who’s pieces I will find around my house when he gives up on building it and gets mad because hubby doesn’t have hours to spend helping put it together just to see it sit there? 

My last hope is an email from Santa saying that Lego has rights to that Death Star so the elves aren’t allowed to make it.  He will offer a large amount of regular Legos and a subscription to Lego magazine which my son is dying to have his Lego City put into  when he has enough Legos to fully complete it. 

Here’s hoping.

Enjoy!
Renée