Santa

I'm taking a break from paper writing to blog about Santa. I'm stealing this blog idea from Amy

My family is very much into the fun innocence of Christmas. We all understood that Christ was in fact the center of the Holiday season, and as I grow older, I learn more and more about what they means. But, when the Thompson kids were little we all very much believed in Santa. I remember laying in bed with Shawn on Christmas Eve night silently straining to hear the sounds of reindeer hooves on the roof or the creaking of the front door (since we didn't have a fire place, we were told Santa came through the front door). We left out cookies and a carrot for Rudolf (looking back, I don't understand why the other reindeer had to starve). Now Shawn, Tyler and I were never really into trying to find our presence before Christmas morning because we didn't want to ruin anything and we didn't want to get in trouble. But my parents, to ensure we wouldn't walk out on them putting together our bikes or dollhouses which were supposed to be from Santa, they told us Santa would disappear and leave us nothing if we walked out and saw him. Another hilarious memory that Shawn and I still laugh about was the year he had to go to the bathroom really bad and the bathroom door was in sight of the Christmas Tree. I don't quite remember what happened, but I think he ended up going and I think it involved diving into the bathroom with his eyes closed! I think we were 8 and 5 at the time.
But as we got older the idea of Santa started to become suspect. Just the mere fact that we understood it took 2.5 days to drive to Wisconsin, how could Santa possibly get all around the world in one night. But my parents did everything they could to keep us believing as long as we could. When we began to notice that Santa had the same wrapping paper, the excuse was that Santa didn't wrap the gifts, mom and dad did... same excuse was given when the handwriting on the tags was recognized as my mother's. I remember when my mom finally told me: She said Santa wasn't real, but once there was a Santa but he no longer gave the presents, mom and dad's did on his behalf. (I actually don't remember when I finally realized that wasn't true either). But despite the secret of Santa being let out, I never once felt lied to or betrayed by my parents. It was like all the other make believe I made up all day in my childhood. It was just pretending.
In fact, now that we are all older and know Santa isn't real, we still like to pretend. We even still put out cookies (mainly to give my parents stamina as they finish wrapping presents into the night). But Santa gifts have started making it under the Christmas tree earlier and earlier... this is unacceptable. We give my mom a hard time if we discover one.
I fully plan to pass on the belief in Santa to my own children.