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There are only a few truly magical things in this life.
2005-12-17, 3:39 p.m.

Okay, I have to do it. I wasn't going to do it, but I have to do it. This entry falls in accordance with other such entries I used to make in my old diary after getting a review that irritatied me from some such diaryland site. My rationale there is that if I wished to pick a fight or have a debate or get any rebuttal at all, then I would leave a note or an email or whatever for the reviewer. If I write it here, it's just another entry of my own thoughts and should be treated as any other entry on any other topic.

That said, this has nothing to do with reviews... I don't get reviews on this diary.

There's a diary that I read, that is a sequel of sorts to another diary that I used to read. Anyway, there was a reference made in a more recent entry about some sort of debate on the subject of Santa Claus that has previously, I guess, been addressed. I must've missed the earlier entry. The bottom line is that she doesn't, hasn't and makes no plans to observe the Santa aspect of the Christmas Tradition with her children. The older one is 3, younger one around 2 months. There's a large thought process behind it, reasoning it. Things like not ever lying to the children, wanting them to observe the "true meaning" of Christmas, focusing on others rather than on self, etc. etc. etc...

We are going to do Santa for Jack, right up until and beyond the time when he's willing to tolerate it. I believed in Santa for as long as I possibly could. I think I was 10 the first year I finally let it go. It's not so much that I "found out the truth" or anything and that made the difference. I just finally let it go. I started to grow up. I started to not believe in that sort of magic. And it sucked... Christmas was never the same, never as much fun, never as magical. I guess that's true of all childhood things that you have to let go of in order to grow up. Even after that, my family always observed the Santa tradition, even when TJ was too old to believe, which came shortly afterward, maybe the following year. I am grateful to my mother for that. Even though I knew better, it was a small attempt at keeping a small spark of the magic alive. We are given a very tiny window of time in this life to believe--really believe--in things that are magical and fantastic. I'm really sorry to anyone who doesn't agree, but it seems almost criminal to rob a child of that.

And as far as the "true meaning of Christmas" and holding others' needs over one's own, well... We have a very LARGE window in life to worry about serious things. It's called adulthood. It's called life, and it sneaks up on you before you even realize it's coming. Children have the rest of their lives to contemplate Jesus and donations and whatnot. Not at all to say that one should not teach their child about Jesus and Christmas Day and that side... No, no, that's not at all what I mean to say, but there is lots and lots and lots of time for that. So, so, so much time...

And then there's the issue of the fact that a 3-year-old doesn't know any better than to ruin the magic for others. It's not the child's fault of course, but come on... Parents work very hard to create magical memories for their own children and you're going to put that in jeopardy too? Talk about overstepping one's bounds... It's not about pretending--it's about really making it REAL. If you do that, then you aren't lying to your child when you tell them that Santa exists. In some form, if not as a physical, corporeal being, Santa Claus is real at Christmastime.

Well, my baby is awake and I've hit all the highlights on this topic, at least. I might've commented directly to the diarist in somewhat more subtle terms had I caught the entry at the time it was written, but it seems stupid to do it now.

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