You probably all thought I lost my mind the other night when I posted about Troll Hunting. I really didn’t. I just discovered the best Horror Film in recent years and it was subtitled in Norwegian. Better: my husband picked it out. He doesn’t watch movies with subtitles and he certainly is not into cryptozoology. Don’t ask me what his take is on Bigfoot.
It’s unforgivable. He’s an Unbeliever.
I’m not blogging about cryptids tonight, much as I would like to. I don’t have any good new information on strange creatures.
Does Santa Claus fall under cryptids? Maybe flying reindeer do. Hmmm. Something to think about. I believe in Santa.
Which brings me to a terrible confession. You know how every year you read some story about some mother who coerced her Kindergarten-aged child to tell other children that there’s no Santa Claus? And all these children went home with their dreams destroyed and the PTA had to call up the unrepentant parent?
Arwen was 5. I thought she was the light of the world and I knew she was dazzling the rest of her public Kindergarten world. That is, until I got The Call.
Mrs. Bates (yes, her Kindergarten teacher’s name was Kathy Bates. Scary, huh?) called me to inform me that Arwen had announced to every kid within earshot that Santa was NOT real.
Oh. My. God. I was suddenly The. Parent.
The only difference between myself and all those other parents was this: *I* believe in Santa. Arwen regularly received presents from Santa at Christmas. She merely chose to *not* believe.
That’s my oldest child for you: her mind is made up. She isn’t swayed. The positive side to this is that when all the neighborhood kids decided to ride their bikes off the edge of a cliff, Arwen was the one child who would refuse to follow the crowd. The down-side to this was: she told all of her Kindergarten classmates that Santa didn’t exist and her mother had to personally apologize to all those parents. Well, not all of them: I let Mrs. Bates be the middle person.
I’m a coward that way.
I tried to introduce Arwen to the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, too. She was having none of it. I think she told her little brother, too.
My revenge? I make certain that Santa Claus brings presents to Arwen’s children. And to Levi’s children.
Arwen probably doesn’t believe in trolls or Bigfoot, either. She’s her father’s daughter.
I love her anyway. (And she’s my favorite daughter. She and Chrystal think that Levi is my favorite. They’re wrong. Levi is my favorite SON. Arwen is my favorite DAUGHTER. Chrystal is my favorite DAUGHTER. It happens. I challenge any parent of more than one child to pick a favorite.)
Jaci Dawn 
Chris figured it out when he was 5 or 6 but I asked him not to tell Lisa. And then I kept waiting for her to figure it out. I think she was 10 or 11 years old when I was beginning to worry about her. Turns out she had known for years but as the youngest child she thought if we knew that she knew, that would be the end of the Santa gifts and stockings. She’s 24 but I still fill stockings for Chris, Lisa and Justin. And I usually do Easter baskets for them, too. Yeah, I’m one of those. 🙂
*like*