Last night Funny Girl came upstairs and asked me if the Santa that you meet before Christmas is the real Santa. I asked her what she thought. Her answer was so well-reasoned that I couldn't help but feel proud of her. She said that he couldn't be the real Santa because he's not fat enough. "How can Santa visit every single house in the world on Christmas, eating all of those cookies, and not be HUGE when we see him?" I thought about suggesting that he was dieting all year, but she had clearly put a lot of thought into this. Before I could say anything, she asked the question.
"Is Santa real or is it you that puts out the presents on Christmas?'
Oh how I wanted to mumble and send her off to bed. She's only six. But again, I couldn't help but feel so proud of her. She figured out the Easter Bunny in March. She held onto Santa for a few more months, but after careful thought she wanted to confirm her suspicions. She was ready.
Her reaction, both of my kids reactions really, were so different from mine. I was so utterly devastated that I nearly kept all magic out of their childhoods. That works for some families, but for ours, I found a joy in the holidays that had been lost when I knew the "truth". I could see why parents play along for as long as they can. It brings magic back for them too.
Funny Girl is proud to know the truth and she feels special that she is in on the secret. She wanted to know who she can talk to about the secret and who she can not. First thing this morning she went to tell B what she had figured out. In the process of talking last night, she also now knows about the tooth fairy. *sniff* She's growing up so fast!
I was a little sad as I sent her back to bed, but as I snuggled up to Dimples she rolled over and said, "Mom, is it true that we were made in the stars?"
This is what I am raising. Thinkers.