How do you answer the dreaded Santa Claus question?

There is one Christmas I remember so well. Let me just say that it was a time when I could still here the bell ringing. I woke up on what was very early Christmas morning. I would have to say one o'clock or somewhere round close to it. Santa was in my room. I could not open my eyes. OMG! If I did there would be no presents. There was just know way I would screw this up. Santa kissed me and pulled the covers up to keep me warm. The next morning there was a wooden desk under the tree. A note attached was from the big guy himself. Love Santa it was signed. How great to believe. To grab hold of and truly feel that Christmas spirit that so many lose with age .I have been blessed with children of all ages. Each one I have the opportunity to reach Santa with info that would leave my child in amazement. "How could he know that?" they would ask. "He's Santa:, I would respond. But now my youngest is eight years old. His belief in a fairy that gives money for teeth and a giant bunny that hops around the world with colored eggs is diminishing. The reality of what is real is beginning to settle in. The age where you are afraid not to believe is upon us. So the questions begin. "Santa, real dad?", he asks. "What do you think", I answer. I get no response as he goes back to his Xbox One. This year he was funny about seeing the big guy at the mall. "That's not the real one", I was told. I stood there hoping that Santa, who I became quite close to over the last few years was doing alright. Martin was right. To him Santa was the Santa that smiled and greeted him over the last few years. The real Santa. I have to admit I was not impressed with Santa this year. He looked tired. The fan he had blowing on him didn't help for the mood much either. For his credit he was good with the children who came with their lists and parents with their credit cards.

I'm not the only parent of a third grader to be dealing with this issue this holiday season. I had a mother ask me just the other day how to handle the dreaded response without destroying a childhood too soon. So my suggestion...first, don't freak out. Remain calm like it's just another question. Let's be gentle while still welcoming growth. We still have a few years of childhood to enjoy together after all. My favorite response is still..."What do you think?" Now I know there are some parents who feel that lying to a child is wrong. Tell them the truth...the real reason for the season. My response is not a lie. My response is allowing my child to think for himself and it is with hope that he will eventually understand.

I want my child to know the true history and meaning of Christmas. If believing allows the hearing of the bell to remain in his ear, temporarily, then so be it. Christmas will always be special to me because of the gift my parents gave me....my childhood. That one early Christmas morning with my eyes closed, which by the way it turned out to be my dad. I know because I asked him years later. It makes me smile to remember. Slowly I can begin to shift my son's focus from receiving to giving. Merry Christmas Santa! The milk and cookies will always be there anytime you want to stop by.