Our four-year-old son, Max, is blissfully unaware of Santa Claus’s traditional lore. While he’s encountered stories about Santa and St. Nicholas through books and notices the festive decorations in our neighborhood, we haven’t explicitly told him that Santa is a real person who slides down chimneys on Christmas Eve. Instead, we’ve decided that Santa is simply a character in a story.
We prioritize honesty in our household. I want my children to feel confident that any question they ask will be met with a truthful answer—no vague metaphors or confusing euphemisms like “Santa lives in our hearts.” We also avoid euphemisms surrounding death and, even with my spouse’s Catholic background, refrain from introducing concepts like heaven or other mystical elements of faith. There are many genuine stories of kindness, giving, and generosity that we can share during the holiday season, fostering a spirit of generosity in our children. Besides, I know that many of the innocent beliefs he holds will fade with time—like the idea that his parents are always right or the realization that adults aren’t always as selfless as they should be.
In my view, the enchantment of believing in Santa isn’t worth the moment when children discover the truth. I don’t equate “believing in Santa” with innocence, and I certainly don’t want my kids to face disillusionment over a fictional character.
That’s how we approach things. I recognize that other families have different beliefs, and while this is a minor disagreement when compared to significant issues like vaccinations or gun ownership, it still raises eyebrows. I’ve told Max that some kids do believe in Santa and that he should let them continue to enjoy that fantasy without arguing. He claims to understand, but at four years old, who knows? He also believes he has superpowers in his tummy!
However, this difference in perspective can lead to awkward situations when parents become upset with other kids for revealing the truth about Santa. Recently, a mother shared her frustration in a New York Times essay after her third-grader learned from a classmate that Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny weren’t real. Her son was understandably upset, and she directed her ire at the classmate:
“I wanted to tie his truth-telling classmate to a medieval torture device. Instead, I spoke to the other child’s mother and casually suggested that while I understood her family’s beliefs about Santa, it might be considerate to keep their perspective private for the sake of their younger children’s classmates, especially during the holidays.”
Here’s the thing: my family’s reality is, well, reality. I don’t believe it’s my child’s job to uphold a fantasy for someone else’s kid. The mother continued to blame the teacher for not controlling the dissemination of “truth”:
“Ben’s teacher caught the worst of it. Many parents felt she should have managed the spread of her student’s revelations.”
Parents are free to share their fairy tales, but it’s unreasonable to expect other children to uphold those fantasies. Since when did kids become responsible for maintaining someone else’s fictions? How long do you expect this to go on? Until they’re eight? Nine? Forty-three? How long are we all supposed to pretend to keep your child in the dark?
This is similar to why we don’t share our bank passwords or our true feelings about relatives; children simply can’t be trusted to keep secrets. Eventually, some child will spill the beans. Wasting energy being upset over something inevitable is pointless. If your child is so heartbroken that they’re crying over this revelation, perhaps it’s time to reflect on your role in their disappointment.
For little ones, the line between reality and make-believe is often blurred. Take my son’s friend, Lily, for instance, who spins tales about a witch that sneaks into her home at night to munch on her parents. They both delight in crafting the story, embellishing it with wilder and wilder details: “The witch eats your tummy! She devours the cat food! She even eats the cat that’s eating the cat food!” While they terrify each other, it’s in a playful, ghost-story kind of way. They likely know witches aren’t real, but the shared imagination is incredibly entertaining, and I hope they continue to be friends and share stories for many years to come. That’s a fantasy life I can wholeheartedly support.
In conclusion, every family has its own approach to holiday traditions and myths. It’s essential to find what works for you and your children while respecting the beliefs of others.
For more insights into parenting and family life, check out our post on home insemination kits and learn about the resources available at ASRM.