We have been discussing with our kids that their Christmas presents will be smaller this year, and not as many of them. The reason is because the biggest gift, for all of us, is our trip this winter to HERE. We've been planning it for months, and finally surprised the kids with the news a few weeks ago. It was such a fun surprise, because as Tessa was running around the room hugging and kissing everyone, I realized that Trevor hadn't said anything yet. When I looked over at him, he was still just sitting there... frozen... with his big brown eyes as big as quarters and his mouth forming a perfect 'O'... it was prime!
Anyway, on to the spoiler part. Mike and I had already decided that we would tell Trevor 'the truth' this year. He started asking questions last year, but we just couldn't bear to tell. So we figured that if it came up this year, we'd be totally honest. It just so happened that we were in the car a couple of weeks ago - just Mike, Trevor and me. When out of the blue Trevor says, "some of my friends say that santa is your parents."
One quick glance between Mike and I, and we both knew this was the moment. My reply, "and what do you think about that, Trev?"
"Oh, I told them that they were wrong." At this point he stared intently at my face, obviously trying to read my thoughts.
And out it came, "Well, it's true". I just watched him as he processed this information.... that same frozen, eyes wide and round mouth look.
"It is?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Quick 'what did we just do?' look at Mike.
More silence.
I don't know what I was expecting, but not the next question.
"What about the Easter bunny?"
"Us."
"The tooth fairy?"
"Us."
"You owe me money."
Mike and I couldn't stop laughing, because apparently Trevor still has a long, lost tooth somewhere in his room. See, this is another reason we just had to get the secret out... I stink at being the tooth fairy. Seriously, I've thought many a time that my kids will grow up warped because the tooth fairy either never paid up or was always so busy that it took her a week or two to get around to them. Then I'd justify it by telling myself that I was just teaching them patience. Sure.
Anyway, back to the story. After all of Trevor's questions, we laid down the law - the same law that had been laid down to Christopher and Katy years ago. There's only one rule. NO TELLING. No telling Tessa, no telling the neighbors, no telling your cousins, no telling your friends at school. If they bring it up, and they already know, you can talk to them about it. But you don't bring it up. You can talk to dad, me, Chris or Katy anytime you want, as long as Tessa isn't around. And the reward for not telling? Elf status. You get to be a helper. My kids have always LOVED being helpers. It takes away a little sting of 'the truth'. And call me corny, but Tessa is my baby, and she's been able to do 'baby' things for longer than the other kids... got her bottle longer, stayed in diapers longer, and she didn't even walk until she was almost two (which although she was in physical therapy for this, I still think it was in great deal because everyone else brought everything to her - she had no need to get up and walk). So I figured we could play along together and stretch her belief in Santa for at least a couple more years.
Fast forward one week. Tessa comes into the living room and announces to Mike and I that she wants a hot tub (of all things!) for Christmas. Mike says, "That's not happening."
"Why?"
"Because a hot tub is too expensive."
"Well, you're not buying it anyway. Santa's making it."
"Still not happening."
"WHY?!?"
"Because it's too expensive."
At this point she puts her hands on her hips, and screams, "WHAT ARE YOU TELLING ME?"
Mike and I exchange looks, his says 'what did I say?' and mine says, 'SHUT UP!', if you can say that with your eyes. Then we both just look back at her, at a complete loss for words, staring blankly at her angry and questioning face.
"ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT YOU ARE SANTA CLAUSE?"
Mike looks at me, as if the question wasn't directed at him. So I say, as calmly as I can muster, "Have you been talking to Trevor?"
"No."
"Have you been talking to your friends?"
"No."
More silence.
I don't know what I was expecting, but not the next question.
"What about the Easter bunny?"
"Us."
"The tooth fairy?"
"Us."
"You owe me money."
Mike and I couldn't stop laughing, because apparently Trevor still has a long, lost tooth somewhere in his room. See, this is another reason we just had to get the secret out... I stink at being the tooth fairy. Seriously, I've thought many a time that my kids will grow up warped because the tooth fairy either never paid up or was always so busy that it took her a week or two to get around to them. Then I'd justify it by telling myself that I was just teaching them patience. Sure.
Anyway, back to the story. After all of Trevor's questions, we laid down the law - the same law that had been laid down to Christopher and Katy years ago. There's only one rule. NO TELLING. No telling Tessa, no telling the neighbors, no telling your cousins, no telling your friends at school. If they bring it up, and they already know, you can talk to them about it. But you don't bring it up. You can talk to dad, me, Chris or Katy anytime you want, as long as Tessa isn't around. And the reward for not telling? Elf status. You get to be a helper. My kids have always LOVED being helpers. It takes away a little sting of 'the truth'. And call me corny, but Tessa is my baby, and she's been able to do 'baby' things for longer than the other kids... got her bottle longer, stayed in diapers longer, and she didn't even walk until she was almost two (which although she was in physical therapy for this, I still think it was in great deal because everyone else brought everything to her - she had no need to get up and walk). So I figured we could play along together and stretch her belief in Santa for at least a couple more years.
Fast forward one week. Tessa comes into the living room and announces to Mike and I that she wants a hot tub (of all things!) for Christmas. Mike says, "That's not happening."
"Why?"
"Because a hot tub is too expensive."
"Well, you're not buying it anyway. Santa's making it."
"Still not happening."
"WHY?!?"
"Because it's too expensive."
At this point she puts her hands on her hips, and screams, "WHAT ARE YOU TELLING ME?"
Mike and I exchange looks, his says 'what did I say?' and mine says, 'SHUT UP!', if you can say that with your eyes. Then we both just look back at her, at a complete loss for words, staring blankly at her angry and questioning face.
"ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT YOU ARE SANTA CLAUSE?"
Mike looks at me, as if the question wasn't directed at him. So I say, as calmly as I can muster, "Have you been talking to Trevor?"
"No."
"Have you been talking to your friends?"
"No."
I think it was at this point that her anger turned to confusion, and her voice rose again, "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?"
I honestly didn't know what to say. My mind was reeling. This was not happening. Not yet. And I am the worst liar in the entire world. So I did it.
"It's true."
At this point, she threw herself onto the couch, and just sobbed. My own tears were stinging my eyes as I leaned over and cradled her. No words were said for several minutes, as her precious little mind wrapped itself around this information. Then she slowly lifted her head and looked up at us, "So you bought my ipod last year?" (I know what you're thinking, but it was the only thing she asked for - and I got the one Mike won at his work Christmas party, so we just gave her my old one.)
"Yes."
I honestly didn't know what to say. My mind was reeling. This was not happening. Not yet. And I am the worst liar in the entire world. So I did it.
"It's true."
At this point, she threw herself onto the couch, and just sobbed. My own tears were stinging my eyes as I leaned over and cradled her. No words were said for several minutes, as her precious little mind wrapped itself around this information. Then she slowly lifted her head and looked up at us, "So you bought my ipod last year?" (I know what you're thinking, but it was the only thing she asked for - and I got the one Mike won at his work Christmas party, so we just gave her my old one.)
"Yes."
"But that was expensive."
"Yes."
And softly, "thank you." That melted my heart, that she would think to thank us after having her heart broken.
The rest of the evening was filled with questions, each spaced 5-10 minutes apart, her heart and mind still taking all of it in. Mostly the same ones Trevor had asked, with a few of her own. And about an hour afterwards, one of them came that made me laugh.
"What about last year when Katy and me were sprinkling the reindeer dust in the yard, and we heard santa say, 'ho, ho, ho' and there were jingle bells?" (This was one we didn't plan, but the timing worked out great and got them in bed super fast.)
So I answered her, "That was just some neighbor outside tricking their own kids, and you just happened to hear it."
By the end of the night, she was smiling at the whole thing and was excited to be in on 'the truth'. And then we laid down the law. Except this was the only time I was able to say, "you can talk to ANYONE in our family, whenever you want".
A few days later, while in the car, she says to me, "mom, really santa does exist.... because we can all be santa, even me.... he's the spirit of giving."
Ahhhh, she had been listening. My heart almost couldn't fit into my chest.
But my moment was short-lived as she laughed and said, "oh yeah, he exists alright... he's at home putting the Christmas lights up on our house!" Then we both gave in to a fit of giggles.
