My oldest son has always been a rational, concrete sort of guy. Everything, I mean everything, has always needed a full explanation that made sense to him. If he is (notice the present tense) not satisfied with the answer, he will continue to ask questions until he is. There are many times I’ve pulled the parental “because I said so” line to hopefully stop, or at least slow, the influx of questions…which has about as much success as licking a metal pole when it’s 20 degrees outside – it just doesn’t work.

Enter Santa Claus.

In circa 2010 (puts my son at 2ish), my wife had been diligently wrapping presents on the eve of Christmas, placing them carefully under the tree. We are two sleep depriving us kids deep at this point – 2ish and 4 months-ish – and are just happy that we even had the wherewithal to remember to buy presents – let alone wrap them. We tucked our children into bed and were so relieved to have all the presents wrapped and under the tree…..and so fell asleep.

The next morning the inquisitive eldest awakens. What did Santa bring????? Turns out, after a quick count, the number of presents under the tree prior to his one more sleep before Christmas and the number of presents under the tree after his one more sleep before Christmas, were identical. Let us pause for a moment here to raise the question of: what 2ish year old child is running a tally in his head, goes to sleep, wakes up with that number still in his head and follows up with an inventory count the next morning? How does the excitement of Christmas not supersede the memory of a night before count? Then again, maybe we don’t need to pause and ask the questions, particularly, if you know my eldest.

Tears ensue. Santa forgot him. There were 6 presents under the tree last night and 6 in the morning. A terrible twos child coupled with a forgetful Santa is a tough combination. My wife is stuck. His rationale is accurate. And she, in all of her life to that point, doesn’t know how to lie. The trauma of what commenced has made it blurry as to my whereabouts….

She tries to calm him down but to no avail.

“But Santa FORGOT!!!!”

“No no. Look! You have presents!”

“They are not new presents since last night. This means he didn’t come to our house!”

“Of course he did.”

“How could he have?? Huh????”

Honest Abe panicked: “…….eh…..ah……Santa DOESN’T EXIST.”

It just came out. It wasn’t anticipated. It wasn’t thought out. The ramifications weren’t calculated (for his present sibling and future sibling…who knows what he has ruined for other kids….maybe yours).

As people we panic a lot. We panic when any sort of lunge is programmed (maybe rightfully so for the impact they will bring the next two days). We panic when we have to complete any amount of double unders. We panic when we gain weight. And all of a sudden it may not be “Santa DOESN’T EXIST” but I often hear (in the same panicked voice) “I just CAN’T DO IT.”

Today, and as we continue to move through this holiday season where cookies are a-plenty, workouts seem sluggish and crazy aunts/uncles/in-laws/siblings/cousins/parents (or whoever that infringes on your space) will make THAT comment to you…..perhaps, instead of the panic button (negative self talk, negative audible talk to others or ourselves) maybe we could bring about a little peace, love and joy. As much as we like to blow off how we internalize things or audibly say things and say “it’s not big deal” – there are ramifications and it is a big deal.

We can’t fix the Santa issue in our house. But we can correct how we think or talk about ourselves – our bodies, our looks, our workouts, our nutrition. We can also correct and shift, in small steps, ways to start moving in a new direction.

As hard as the holidays can be for a variety of reasons (I mean, look at what my wife did to my poor kids!) I hope that in the challenges we can see, feel and provide to others…peace, love and joy.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Oh and I’d advise you to avoid my eldest today if you want to keep the magic alive in your house.