day 52: fakes

For 8 3/4 years, I've successfully kept up this vise.

Filling stockings only when girls are fast asleep.

Ate carrots and cookies, leaving a few remnants on the plate.

Told the girls they HAD to go to bed so that Santa could come.

Told them that he was always watching.

Tonight, that all was thrown out the window.

In a completely innocent act, the girls and I sat down together to open up a package from Gramma Sandy. Because of our odd Easter plans, she mailed a box of Easter goodies for the girls to enjoy, just a little after the fact. At the top of the package was a note:

Girls:

I think the Easter bunny got confused.

He left things for you at my house.

Have fun!

They discovered their goodies.

Shared, as instructed, for a few minutes.

I went on to fix supper in the kitchen when Reagan yelled, "Mom, the Easter bunny is a fake, isn't he?"

Umm......this was completely unscripted for me. Aaron and I had yet to have this discussion of how long we wait to reveal the truth, when to know, how to do it, etc.

So I turned the tables on her.

"Reagan, what do you think?"

"I think he's a fake."

"Why? Reagan, what does Easter mean to you?"

"Duh, Mom. It's all about Jesus. I know that."

"Okay, so is there an Easter bunny?"

"Nope. He's a fake."

Wow. Cat officially out of the bag. Kennedy was, at this point, up in her bedroom, but McK was around, attentively listening. No more Easter bunny for her wasn't a game breaker. No worries.

"So Mom, you're the one who always filled our baskets?"

Guilty.

Back to putting the biscuits in the oven, stirring the mashed potatoes, etc. No harm done.

Except for the next question a few minutes later:

"Mom, Santa Claus is a fake, too, isn't he?"

Well, crap. Didn't see that one coming.

We never intentionally set out on lying to our children. Beginning such holiday traditions when our kids were babies just seemed like what all good parents did. That is, until they get old enough to reason with the world on their own.

"Well, Reagan, think about it. What is Christmas about, anyways?"

"Duh, Mom, Jesus' birth. I'm not dumb."

(and since when is she old enough to "duh" me??)

"Okay, so is there a Santa Claus?"

"Nope. He's a fake, too."

Wow. There you have it. Two of the biggest childhood hoaxes now debunked. All thanks to good ole' Gramma.

"So, Mom, you filled our stockings just like with our Easter baskets?"

Guilty.

"Is the North Pole a fake?"

"Actually, that is real. There just aren't any elves or Santas there."

"But Mom, I've seen those Santas at the malls. And I've seen their beards. They are real!"

"Reagan, they are real people dressed up as Santa Claus."

"Oh."

Runs into the living room, where McK is happily, yet silently, playing.

"McKinley, Mom just told me that Santa and the Easter bunny aren't real!"

McK: "Okay, Reagan. I heard you guys talking. Get away from my toys!"

Wow. No apparent troubles with that one.

Loud, pounding footprints on the stairs.

"Kennedy! Guess what Mom just told me!"

A few minutes later, when Reagan returned, I asked her what Kennedy said.

"Mom, she didn't care. She told me that she already thought they were fakes."

Oh, so I haven't been as convincing as I thought I was.

The expression on my face must have shown that exact thought, because she quickly piped up,

"It's okay, Mom. Even though I know the truth, I'll still be just as excited as I was before."