Thursday, November 29, 2018

Postmortem Santa Letter.

Well, we did it. We gave him the letter. Up until Monday I had only written the letter and the blog post about Team Santa. That was the easy part.

Despite being paid for 10 years to talk, sometimes from a script, often off the cuff, when it comes to emotional things I have a tendency to word vomit until I'm out of breath and crying and everyone leaves confused and thinking I'm PMSing. I need a script when it comes to my kids and my family, otherwise I'm a blubbering hot mess.

Before bed Monday night we went into his room and asked if he had any questions for us. First he wanted to know if I had gotten Beanboozeled yet (been begging for that damn game for weeks) and then where babies come from (one thing at a time kid). He didn't mention anything about Santa. I hesitated (the letter was tucked in my pants, obviously). Maybe it wasn't time, maybe we could squeeze out one more Christmas with all three kids engrossed in the magic. But, then I remembered that our kids only ask important questions (the ones you have to be prepared for like Santa and babies and politics) when I am without adult backup and trying to accomplish 352 things at the same time, or on the toilet. The question would come again this season. It was time.

I ugly cried all the way through the letter. We all cried. I think he cried mostly because I was crying. But he got it. And I think it was a really gentle way to let him in on the magic instead of him finding a hidden gift or catching us in the act Christmas Eve.

I'm not going to lie, I'm emotional about it now, after the fact. One of my kids is in on it now, it feels odd. It feels like we are exposed or something. Like this huge secret we have been keeping for 10 years is no more and what else does that open us up for? But he is 100% in on Team Santa. He came down the morning after and asked about the damn Elf. So there goes another 'well' kept secret. But he does want in on the occasional moving of said Elf. And he will more than likely save the day at least a few times this season because no one remembers every night, do they?

Now, someone write a letter about the magic of where babies come from for me... and read it to my kid while you're at it.

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