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Dear Santa,

I remember being a kid and living in that awe and wonder of Santa. His amazing workshop. The cool elves. The fact he managed his time well enough to get to all the kids in the world. Yes, even at six years old, time management skills were a huge draw for me.

Every Christmas Eve, my mom would help me put out milk and cookies. By six the next morning, I was sitting in front of the tree, staring anxiously at the wrapped boxes, totally thrilled at the half eaten cookies, and worried about who was going to clean up the magical boot prints Santa left behind. I was not a normal child LOL!

We are on our last believer in the house. Her eyes still get big when she sees cool Christmas lights. She wonders if Santa saw her massive meltdown, or if her elf, Diddles, told Santa about her selfish tantrum. She has crazy theories on how he manages to deliver the gifts and long discussions on what kind of cookies to bake and leave happen everyday day leading up to the day.

The hubs and I toyed with the idea of letting her in on who really puts those gifts under the tree each year, but her childlike wonder keeps me from pulling the trigger. Kids today have grown up too quickly. Instead of anxiously waiting to see what Santa brings, hoping for new dolls or race cars, they are expecting new iPhones and PS5 gaming systems under the tree. They don’t eagerly anticipate the mysterious gift arrival because they expect it will be there.

Our youngest is riding the fence. She still believes in Santa but wants the electronics menagerie as well. I find myself creating various ways to break it to her gently but I am lost. How do you destroy wonder like that? The thought of taking away her excitement at the shenanigans her elf gets into each day hurts me. Even if I hate the duty of remembering to move the little bugger each morning.

As a parent, you always wonder if you are doing things right. Allowing them to grow up at a decent rate, not too fast but not too slow. Allowing them to still be kids while instilling a sense of self and responsibility. It’s a fine line to tango upon. Pretty sure we teeter often and catch ourselves at just the right time.

Oh, well. For now, she can keep believing in the magic of Santa. And I’ll keep moving the ridiculous elf.

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