Ho, Ho, no?
This blog may get me into trouble, but here it goes. It’s about Santa Claus. Now hold on y’all, put down your torches and pitchforks. I BELIEVE. Santa comes to my house every year because ya’ll know I’m always on the nice list. I even put up with that blankety blank, so and so, trouble making freaking elf, so I don’t want no confrontations about Santa at the Walmarts. If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that the Santa debate can get really heated really fast. What Santa debate you say? Here’s a southernfied example. “So and so’s kid done told my sweet angel baby kid that Santa Clause ain’t real, now Christmas is rurnt!” Lord have mercy. It seems there are 2 Santa stances.
1.”We DO NOT do Santa at our house. If we are lying about Santa, then we are lying about Jesus. Santa is fake. Jesus is real. The end.”
2.”Of course we do Santa at our house! This is the South and Santa IS Christmas! Honey, if you don’t believe then you don’t receive!”
When the debate fires up at the beauty shop about whether they do Santa or not, I try to keep my mouth shut and stand back, cause hair will start to fly and I don’t want to be scratched by a fake fingernail. I’m telling ya’ll, folks are passionate about Santa one way or the other. Extremes are definitely the trend but I can’t help but to wonder, can’t we find a middle ground on this issue?
For you guys that don’t do Santa, I get it. First of all, you don’t want to persuade your kid to believe in a fictional character, then at the same time try to convince your child to believe in Jesus. Then, there is also that moment when the child finds out Santa isn’t real, and Christmas is never the same for them again. Good gracious, that is a heck of a lot of pressure. I cringe writing this very blog thinking, what if some kid reads this and I wreck his Christmas and his Momma and Daddy rip me a new one on Facebook in front of God and everybody. Whew. Nobody can live up to Santa standards.
On the other hand playing Santa is fun, and it’s honestly as fun for us parents as it is the kids. It’s a tradition that has been passed down for generations. There is a precious innocence that comes with believing in Santa. Every child deserves to sit in Santa’s lap and have their picture made as they scream bloody murder and string snot all over his red velvet suit. It’s all part of the magic people.
I’m sorry. Did I lead you to believe that I was going to give you my opinion on whether I think it’s right or wrong to play Santa with your kids? I’m not. I believe that families should do whatever they feel is right for their own, and not worry about what other folks are doing. I also believe that we should respect one another in whatever decisions we make for our families. When it’s all said and done, what matters is that your family knows what the real meaning of Christmas is. The traditions and family time that you have is what makes Christmas magical and beautiful, whether you Santa or not. I will say this and you can let me have it in the comment section below if you’d like: If you have to go to extremes to keep your kid believing in Santa so Christmas will be special, then you are doing it all wrong.
Since this is my blog, and I can write about whatever I want to, I’m going to brag on my parents because I feel like they nailed it on the whole Santa thing. Santa always brought me gifts, but my parents never got super crazy with it. The emphasis of Christmas wasn’t Santa and presents, although we did have fun with that, and I was pretty spoiled, but the emphasis of Christmas was Jesus and family. My parents never put on big circus of a show to emphasis the beauty of Christmas, it just was. I remember standing in my parent’s bathroom while they got all dressed up. I’ve got good looking parents y’all. I watched my Mom do her makeup with hot rollers in her hair. My dad brushed back his permed mullet. I asked them point blank, “Is Santa Claus really real?” They didn’t freak out or make out like the world was coming to an end. They were cool and frank in their answer and my Mom even continued to casually powder her nose. She told me that there was no one Santa, who came down my chimney. (That was one heck of a relief for me.) Santa was made real in my imagination, and it was important to always believe, and play, and imagine because Santa represented magic, and love, and most of all, fun. From then on Christmas was no less exciting for me. I believed because it was so much fun. I never felt compelled to try and convince other kids that Santa wasn’t real because that was no fun at all. I’ve always been a connoisseur of fun.
High Five Mom and Dad. Ya did good.
For the rest of you, calm down. Don’t get your panties in a wad every time somebody isn’t doing the exact same thing you are.
Merry Christmas, y’all.