It had to happen eventually.
Some stupid kid at Anna's school has sowed the first seeds of Santa doubt. My child is SEVEN. Maybe I'm just being a protective parent, but I think that is way too early to even be thinking about there being no Santa.
I simply can't remember when I found out there was no Santa. Growing up, my belief in Santa was unshakable, even when a girl in my class (I forget the year) came out and said in plain English that Santa was my mom and dad. End of story. A part of me didn't want to believe she was right, even though I had long been wondering why my folks put us all in the car for a good 20 minutes prior to leaving for Christmas at my grandmother's house and why Santa's handwriting was the same as my mom's. I firmly believe that part of me that didn't want to give up believing in Santa is the same part of me that wants to believe that Barack Obama now knows the truth about Roswell and UFOs and all that stuff. I really am Fox Mulder. I want to believe.
I am not so naive as to think that Anna will always believe in Santa. While I am a bit wistful about her growing up, I am not going to stand in the way of it happening. In response to her friend's revelations about the true nature of Santa, I asked her what she thought about it. We talked about The Polar Express and how the narrator of that story could hear the magic jingle bell his entire life, even after his friends and siblings could no longer hear it, because he still believed. I think it's important now to lay the groundwork for the revealing the myth of Santa, while at the same time, not turning it into a big deal. We'll see how that goes.
In the end, there's more to it than a man in a red suit anyway. But I will admit, her belief is pretty amazing. I would think that in this day and age, it would be so hard to believe in Santa. And once the polar ice caps melt, I figure it will be virtually impossible to believe the Santa myth.