Santa Claus on the Brain

I'll be honest, I've been thinking a lot about a man other than my husband lately. A man who finds me funny (or at the very least, he belly laughs at nearly everything), has good taste in colours (red and green are my second favourite colours) and has a sweet tooth nearly as large as mine - as evidenced by all the cookies he eats over the course of Christmas Eve.
Yes, I am talking about Santa. Isabel is at the age where she is really starting to "get" Christmas and Santa and is developing that sense of wonder that encapsulates childhood as we all remember it. She is not keen to sit on the knee of a stranger - no matter how jovial or how many treats he is willing to hand over. But she understands that a magical man will be coming on Christmas Eve while she is sleeping and will be leaving us all gifts. She knows about Santa's reindeer and his elves. She knows that he likes cookies and that his deer like carrots. She's got the gist of it. As a result, we've decided to go whole hog with the Santa gig this year. We have seen Santa at the mall. We've written him and received a letter back. We've received a video email from him. We will be following him via NORAD on Christmas Eve and we will be leaving the requisite treats by the tree before going to bed.
After the children have gone to bed, the real magic will happen. Isabel has asked for such simple gifts - a pair of pyjama pants because the ones she loves are too small and an electric toothbrush (which she calls a "big toothbrush") because hers broke. She will be getting both of these items and I've put the bug in her ear that she might like a Jessie costume so that the chest of costumes will be absolutely amazing in her mind. We will be leaving a trail of sparkles throughout the house and yard where Santa will have walked. We are making sled tracks in the snow in the front yard and her stocking will be moved from the spot it is hanging on the bookshelf to her doorknob. I've no doubt that this will 100% solidify in her mind that Santa is indeed real and did, in fact, visit our home. My hope is that it will ignite a spark in her imagination so strong that it will take years of non-believers to squelch it.
Why, then, do I still have Santa on the brain, you ask? Because I have begun noticing that around every corner there are people either actively or inadvertently doing things to foil my plan. Why, in heavens name, do companies feel the need to allude or flat out state Santa's being a myth in their advertisements? Why do shows, aimed at children, talk about Santa in such a grown up way (the fact that he is the spirit of giving in all of us, for example)? And why do parents who choose not to practice "Santa" not also teach their children tact and respect for the beliefs of others, thus keeping them from unceremoniously taking away a beautiful part of childhood that other parents have created for their children?
This blog post actually angered me with its condescending tone and disrespect for the innocence and wonder of childhood. He makes a lot of assumptions too (like the emotions he attributes to every child who learns the truth about Santa - smugness and superiority) and sweeping generalizations never sit well with me. He lost me entirely though when he scoffed so entirely at "invocations of magic or mystery." Yet another conceited, middle-aged man who thinks that because he cannot sense it, it obviously isn't real and is therefore worthless. I think this, in a nutshell, is why I can never identify as an atheist. While I don't believe in anything in particular, I certainly can't say that I believe in nothingness either. I can't say that his theories are all bad because I do appreciate the value in teaching children problem solving skills and honing their questioning by turning their questions about Santa Claus back on them, but to say that belief in Santa is just evidence as to "how completely we all can snow ourselves if the enticements are attractive enough" suggests to me that he and I see Santa VERY differently. With that in mind, I am going to close the tab containing this man's blog and tell you about my Santa.
I was a full-on believer in Santa until the ripe old age of 8, if I had to estimate. It was around then that I either started to question myself or could no longer ignore the signs around me that suggested there may be more to the story.
For lack of a better description, I stored away Santa-related information until I was about 10, gradually realising that there may not have been a dude in a red suit sliding down my chimney, but still not willing to let go of the magic yet. Unfortunately, Santa as I knew him ceased to exist rather suddenly around this time and it was entirely of my own doing. (Mom: Turn away now if you don't want to learn that I was, in fact, not perfect ;) )
All of my peers snooped and bragged about their finds. They had for a couple of years at this point, but I had steadfastly refused, partially because I didn't want to get into trouble, partially because I didn't want to ruin surprises and partially because I was afraid of what I might discover. Well, in a moment of weakness, I rummaged lightly in my mother's closet, making a half-hearted attempt at snooping, sure she had hidden things well. With a light tossing of some clothes, I found a Wheel of Fortune board game. I was IMMEDIATELY remorseful and regretful and disappointed in myself. I covered it back up and bolted. For the weeks leading up to Christmas, I prayed to whatever deity would listen that the game not be from Santa, but it was not meant to be. On Christmas morning, the game was labeled from Santa and the whole thing was shattered. You may think that I would be angry at my parents or feel betrayed, but mostly I was just disappointed in myself. I had ruined Santa for myself.
The next Christmas, I held my breath for what was sure to be the worst Christmas possible - a Santa-less Christmas. To my surprise though, the disappearance of Santa didn't ruin Christmas at all. As a matter of fact, Santa was still there, in my heart. He was made up of all of the things I loved about Christmas - the tree, the music, the baking, the family - the magic. This new Santa warmed my heart just as much as the old Santa had, so it was easy to keep believing for the sake of my little sister and my family and even myself.
Since then, Santa has grown to include the joy of giving and the compassion and goodwill toward others that come with maturity. There is a little bit of Santa in all of us. I am hoping that we, as a society, don't forget, or heaven forbid, become scornful or dismissive of it.