“Cookies are made of butter and love.” – Norwegian Proverb
It's the first year ever with no cookies for Santa or glittery oatmeal for the reindeer. As a matter of fact, no Santa is expected, and no gifts from Santa under the tree. That's relieving on the bank account, but not my heart.
Our home life has been in turbulence between me, my partner, and my teenaged daughter. Earlier in the year, we were in counseling, mainly for her, but also as a family. In an explosive and agitated state, defering from the reason why were in counseling, my kids' father stated that I keep babying the youngest and abruptly said, "There's no such thing as Santa."
My son handled it well, but I felt so bad for him, because at 9 years old (he just turned 10 three months ago), he still believed. I actually didn't know how to make him not believe, and wasn't sure if I should ever break him the news, or would he just grow out of it, or would kids at school tell him. It was such a harsh way of breaking it to him. His answer was, "It's ok, I knew it anyway," which was a lie. My son really believed. He even told me he had a falling out with his best friend because his friend said, "Santa is fake."
On the other hand, it makes me sad that my children are all big. My daughter has 1 year left before she's an adult, my son Kalib has less than 4 years, and Chris has 8 more years. I don't know how much longer we will be a family unit under one household with the sad feelings I have as of late.
