One of the best things about having children is watching them grow and start to learn new concepts. My three and a half year old son is starting to understand that Santa is coming soon and my husband and I couldn't be more excited. There is a growing movement online on mommy blogs and new wave parenting sites about how destructive and creepy it is to teach your kids about a fat man in a red suit who breaks into your house once a year to leave you presents when you've "been good." The idea that this man watches you all year and then gives you a behavioural report card in the form of material goods is unsettling to some people. Personally, I think that idea that Santa is harmful is an indicator of the collapse of western civilization.
There is hardly any magic left in our modern lives. Most people know how to program their DVRs, or can Google a missing song lyric on the magic of the internet and can text with ease. Santa is magic. There is no greater joy, in my opinion, than watching the sheer delight of my children discovering the presents that Santa brought under the tree on Christmas morning. In my family, Santa always brought all of the presents on Christmas morning. I think it was to avoid the possibility of snoopy little fingers pre-opening the gifts. This is a tradition that we have maintained in our family now. That way the surprise of all of the brightly wrapped presents punches you right in the face come Christmas morn'.
This year my son wrote a letter to Santa. First, I had to explain what a letter was and what it was for after he looked at me blankly and gave me the alphabet magnets from the fridge. Then he proceeded to dictate his first letter to Santa prompted by my asking him questions:
Dear Santa,
For Christmas I would like pink presents. My baby sister, Daddy and Mommy want brown presents. Kylie (our dog) wants pink presents with me! I will share my presents with Santa Claus.
Love, me.
Hmm.
Dear Santa,
For Christmas, I would like pink and brown wrapping paper.
Love, Megan.
