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The brutal truth of me, without all the sugary coating.
Here I am just me, UNCUT and UNEDITED.
I talk about my family, my divorce, and a lot about MAKEUP.
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Saturday, November 26, 2011

I'm no good at being Santa

Remember when you found out about Santa? It's different for everyone, but my story is fairly standard. I came downstairs for a drink on Christmas Eve about Midnight and found my older siblings and mom wrapping my Christmas presents. I'm not sure how I made it to eleven before I figured it out, but I was crushed. (I had known about sex for three years already, but Santa? Now THAT was a shock.)

After you figure it out, the magic kind of dulls and Christmas just isn't ever the same again.

Until you have kids. Then Christmas is unbelievably exciting again! Santa is magical once more, and WE get to choose the presents! It's amazing!

The moment you realize you have to LIE to your kids in order to introduce Santa Claus into their imaginations is a bit of a downer, but still. The lie is so WORTH IT.

Well, I love Christmas as much as the next person. I love it all. This year I even let my kids put up their stockings and Christmas lights and 17 Santa Claus figurines the day before Thanksgiving. They were so excited, and I can't resist, so we turned up the Christmas music and went to Christmastown.

But I SUCK at being Santa. I love it, but I suck at it. There are few things I'm worse at than lying. I know, I know, you're shocked, but covering up the truth of things is not my greatest attribute. I'm pretty proud of that these days, as I think being fake is Satanic, but it doesn't lend well to the Santa facade.

At least once every year I have said something in front of my nieces or nephews that ruined their Christmas plans. This year is no exception. I managed to text "We have a _____ for _____ at my work! Only $6.99!" while her kids had her phone. Yeah. I'm a genius. Other times I've said something right out loud in front of them about being Santa. The poor children have giant eyeballs popping out of their heads, and their moms are looking at me like I just killed their family pet. And there's NO WAY TO SAVE that kind of slip-up. Absolutely no cover-up.

This year I've already messed up with my own kids. My mother in law saw something cool at our house, and I said, "That's one of my only Black Friday purchases. I bought it at Toys R Us last year!" Josh immediately popped up and said, "No you didn't. Santa gave that to us."

Oh. That's right. I forgot.
Well, I feel sheepish.

Joshua is getting old now. He'll turn nine in January. I'm pretty sure I'll ruin everything this year and spoil Santa for him. If I haven't already.

But if I do, I'll have no fear, because I have discovered this: The Truth About Santa. (found on

You're welcome.


  1. You're such a good mom! I did it on purpose so that my kids would find out there was no Santa. It's a lot of effin work pretending to be that guy!

  2. There's part of me that really wants to keep on believing in Santa. That magic is unreplaceable. It reemerges some when you relive those moments with your kids, but that Christmas magic never quite glimmers the same. I'll jump backwards through hoops in a snowstorm to keep my kids beleiving as long as I can! :)


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