I think this is my last year of Santa.

And I’m rather sad about it.

The Small Small expressed her opinion the other day that He doesn’t exist, and that I probably do it all when they’re asleep.

I told her that sounded like a lot of effort for me, and I’m far too tired for that sort of thing.

She accepted this verifiable truth pretty readily, but still looked somewhat doubtful, so I rolled out the ol’ ‘Don’t believe, don’t receive’ adage as back-up.

She dropped the subject.

But, clearly, it’s nearly over…

Pretty soon she’ll ask again, and it’ll be time to roll out the Santa Script I used with her big sister. (I’m fortunate she’s just got a new baby brother, so she has someone to keep the magic alive for).

But I’m going to miss it.

Making magic come to life for my kids every Christmas has been one of the highlights of motherhood. And as they get older creating joy for them seems to get a lot harder…

It used to be easy, didn’t it? I could get a genuine giggle out of them with a sloppy kiss, by throwing them in the air, pulling a penny out from behind their ear, with silly voices, a song, a tickle.

Now the even the antics of the Elf are barely eliciting a grunt.

Welcome to the pre-teen and teen years…

But there are compensations.

Now they laugh at my puns (sometimes). And at my misfortunes… which is actually validating. At the shows and I actively LIKE on the telly and would watch even without them. At absurd things we observe together – at memes, at Catonthenetheredge’s antics, at misheard lyrics.

And weirdly, despite the sadness at what’s gone, I wouldn’t actually change it. I wouldn’t go back.

I suppose Christmas magic will evolve in the same way everything does. That it will build from the family traditions I made, the joy I weaved for them, the memories I built as foundations.

Maybe next year they can surprise ME with the Elf’s nightly adventures (and see how they bloody like it).

It’s the time of year for looking back and looking forward, and a very good time to remember that it’s okay, normal and indeed a GIFT to be able to hold two (or more) truths at once, two (or more) feelings: happy and sad, terrified and grateful, excited and disappointed, defeated and defiant, up and down and back again.

For now, I’m going to enjoy my last Christmas as/with Santa.

And I’m going to post again the Santa Script, for anyone else who thinks they might need it sometime soon…

THE SANTA SCRIPT

I want you to know that Christmas magic IS real – but there is also a secret. Are you sure you’re ready to know the secret of it, or would you just like to have the magic for a bit longer?

Okay, well if you’re really ready, this is it. But before I tell you, you have to promise to keep the secret. So I can never hear that you’ve told anyone else about this, ever. Do you promise?

Christmas magic is real. And Santa is real… But he’s not a man in a red suit. I’m a Santa. And now you’re a Santa, too.

The magic bit is that all these grown-ups – and now you – across half the world, with all our different views and opinions and languages and ways of doing things – we all agree that once a year we’ll come together to tell this shared story, and make this legend of Santa Claus come to life for children.

We don’t talk about it. No one confers. We just all quietly agree to do it – and we all keep the secret. And THAT’S a pretty magical thing for half the world to do. And the REALLY INCREDIBLE bit is we all do it without expecting anything in return. It’s a completely selfless act – and there aren’t very many of those.

Usually, when people give a gift, they do it because they’re building a relationship with someone. So you give your best friend a present on their birthday because you know they’ll like it, but also because you know they’ll like YOU for giving it to them. It’s part of how you confirm your friendship. They feel good about getting a gift, but you also feel good about giving it.

But when a gift comes from Santa, it’s not about you at all. It’s JUST about them. You won’t get a thank you. You won’t get the credit. But you get something else instead – something better; you get to be the one who makes magic come alive for someone else. And that’s really, really amazing.

Sometimes, the world isn’t always a very nice place. Sometimes it isn’t fair. Sometimes life is really, really hard for people. But sometimes, sometimes there IS magic in it.

And if you’re the sort of person who knows how to believe in magic from your own childhood, who knows how to look for it – and who then knows how to MAKE it for someone else – you’re someone who can not only get on in the world, but make it a better place, too.