Premeditated Lying

So, I am struggling with the whole "Santa Claus" lie. I have not specifically said anything to Gillian about the actual existence Santa Claus, except to ask her if she wants to go "see the man dressed like Santa Claus" at the mall. He freaked her out, by the way. I read her Christmas books that include things about Santa Claus, but she probably thinks about his role in them as she does any fictional character in any book she has. I feel like the absurdity of the story is almost insulting to her intellect... a fat guy with facial hair lives someplace no one could really survive long term with a team of mythical and definitely non-existant elves who toil for the entire year making toys (that look suspiciously like those made in American toy factories), with reindeer who somehow have the ability to fly (with no wings, which truly perplexes her), and pull a cart with the fat guy and a bag of toys that is bottomless enough to give a gift to every kid on earth (at least the millions that believe in him, and, obviously, the ones that are not living in poverty who have better things to worry about than whether or not they are getting gifts from St. Nick), and do it all in a single night (even with the time zones being where they are and starting where the 25th first appears is a fantastic notion). This part of the holiday season is probably one of the most annoying examples of American excess and I really kind of hate it.

But somehow, in spite of Sean and I not really pushing this story, it has seeped into Gillian's worldview. Maybe Anna has talked to her about it, or maybe Luella, or maybe the books... I try most often to read her the book about the birth of Christ, and leave the greed-inducing stories of Santa out of it. I guess I am railing against the Capitalist mecca of this holiday. It seems so insincere, and silly, and cheap to talk about Santa Clauses and flying reindeer and bottomless bags of gifts. My spine definitely stiffens when I hear people threatening no gifts for their child "if Santa finds out you aren't being a good girl". The gifts are better explained as a tradition started with the gifts brought to Christ at His birth.

All that said, there are memories everyone I know has of the excitement of Christmas morning and seeing the gifts "Santa brought". I remember trying to stay up and listen hard for the sound of hoofs on the roof (even though we didn't have a chimney in Florida), looking out my window for Rudolf's red nose glowing in the night sky, and finally passing out and missing it every year. I remember leaving out milk and cookies (that my mother never protested making) that mysteriously disappeared every Christmas Eve. But I also remember the hurt, disappointment, and anger I felt when I realized my parents lied to me for years about the fact that Santa was real when he wasn't (though when some kid told me he wasn't real and I asked my mom, she only said "he's real if you believe in him"). Kindof like when they told me my grandfather was going to get better and he died Christmas eve when I was 10 years old. Lying is unkind, no matter what. With Gillian, I try HARD to "tell the truth, tell the truth, TELL THE TRUTH." She deserves my respect, and this mammoth lie makes me more than uncomfortable.

I don't want my kid to be the one running around bursting the Santa Bubbles of other kids, either, but this is really hard for me. Is there some middle ground where we can enjoy the story of Santa Claus, tongue in cheek even, and have a "santa" gift every year knowing it is only in fun, while respecting the various levels of belief other people have in this tradition? I need more time to mull this one over...