I knew it was coming. I even tried to prepare for it. It’s like when you know your boyfriend is going to break up with you, but you do it first to let him down easy and to save face. But it happened, and I was a bucket of tears. Thank God not the ugly cry, but the pathetic cry as tears well up in your eyes and one slowly rolls down your face before it starts to pour. Cry like this will make your worse enemy feel sorry she ever said or did anything to hurt you. But it wasn’t my boyfriend or an enemy; it was my boys. It happened Christmas morning, I was sick with the flu, trying not to faint as I hooked up their new Xbox and my 11-year-old declared, “Mom, we know.” “You know what?” “We know you’re Santa.” That’s it. I won’t go into the gory details of their discovery, but let’s just say I think they had their suspicions and our house alarm was the final clue to the mystery. I thought I’d feel relieved. For the better part of 2013, I had been poking and prodding to figure out what exactly, if anything, they knew. Nothing. I also kept telling myself I was ready to move on. Let’s be honest, after a while you do get tired of putting out the reindeer food, eating the cookies, waiting until everyone is asleep to place the gifts all to keep the fantasy alive. Now I had to ask them, “what do you think?” Then they started to tear and thank me. My hubby watched this display with disbelief and shock. His boys were crying along with his wife. When did his family become a bunch of saps? My cry was not of a broken heart or hurt feelings, as I explained to them, but because it was an end of an era. I’m no longer a mommy to little ones. Rather, I’m speeding into the teen years and quite truthfully, I’m scared. Let’s face it, from now on my Christmas will not be littered with enthusiastic exclamations of, “This is the best Christmas ever!” “That’s exactly what I wanted!” “How does Santa do it?” “I’m the luckiest boy alive!” Now it’ll be, “thanks, Mom.” Then it sank in for my boys as my 10-year-old in a panic asks, “Mom, does this mean Christmas doesn’t exist?” “Yes son, Christmas is canceled.” I had to have some fun or else I’d be a hot mess for a long time. After some reassurance, Christmas continues even if you know the truth about Santa, he let out a huge sigh of relief. But I also explained this is the opportunity for us to redefine how we celebrate the spirit of the holiday. And simultaneously my boys said, “let’s go to Hawaii.” Nice, I see they’ve already moved on. You know what? They haven’t asked about the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny.
