If some of you had unattractive (meaning non symentrically- featured) children would you tell them they are beautiful (as I would) or be 100% honest and say, “compared to other children you’re really not as good looking?” and then feel as though you’ve done the right thing in being totally honest at all times?
When your kid 4 years old draws a picture do you critique it honestly and show them the proper way it should be done - or do you hang it in a place of honor allowing them to believe it’s a masterpiece?
My parents were wonderful people. They gave me the gifts of Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and I’m grateful for the happy memories.
My children are all grown up now, but I’m convinced that each had realised around the age of four or five that Santa was a myth. However, I’m also convincved that they each played along, pretending to believe in the myth, so that (1) they would continue to get presents from Santa, and (2) they wouldn’t spoil things for younger children who might still believe in the myth.
Santa Claus is one of my favorite memories. When I finally figured it out, Mom drafted me into Santa’s Army. Santa’s Army was responsible for keeping the spirit of Santa alive. It was explained that Santa was very much alive as long as one member of his Army still took part in giving. To this day I love to give gifts and run a Toys For Tots program at work where I match the first $300 that coworkers donate.
I converted to Judaism as an adult, so I won’t do Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny for my potential kids (though the Passover Bunny once did get Mr. Neville a present ) I do plan to do the Tooth Fairy thing, though, but don’t plan to do anything to cover up that the Tooth Fairy is really me.
But there is a rabbit in the moon. At least that’s what the dark patches on the moon looked like to me when I visited Australia (see how bad their rabbit problem has gotten? ). In the Northern Hemisphere, there’s a man in the moon- the dark patches make the moon look like a face.
Well, my husband felt lied to at the time, but it’s not exactly a source of trauma these days. He was 5 years old and hid behind the tree on Christmas Eve, waiting to see Santa, and when he caught his parents bringing in the presents, he wailed, “You lied to me!” His dad flew off the handle and started yelling - I’m thinking that having an abusive, unmedicated, bipolar father had more to do with my husband’s reaction to this situation.
An old boss of mine was wondering what he was going to do to get himself out of the pickle he’d gotten into - I think his daughter was 9 and still trying fiercely to believe in Santa, defending herself at school against the nay-sayers, and raising questions to her parents that she’d end up arguing herself out of before they could figure out a proper response. He didn’t know how to salvage that situation without causing trust issues, especially since they’d let it go on for so long. (We both left that place before I heard what the resolution was.)
I was raised with Santa being a wonderful tradition but not real like my parents, my friends, my neighbors - real in the imaginary friend or neat storybook tale way, and real in that there was an almost magical spirit of goodness that accompanied Christmas if you wanted to be like him, if you gave without expecting back. My childhood didn’t lack for any magic or charm or imagination.
I wasn’t traumatized because I found out Santa wasn’t real. In my vague, dim way, even back then I was upset because I’d only had a couple years to believe. I came over here at age 4, had two short years, then someone told me about it in school. :rolleyes: :rolleyes: :rolleyes: (I hate other kids). But I was never mad at my parents, I understood they did it to make me happy.
Years later, when my mom started lying to me deliberately to hurt me, I knew what it was, and that hurt.
I can’t say anything about the ugly kids because I’ve never been in that position. But when I was young I HATED it when people fawned over my art like I was the new Rembrandt or something because I knew it was crap. Sometimes I’d tell them “Actually, I don’t think it’s very good, I couldn’t achieve what I was aiming for” and they’d laugh and say I was cute. I spent a lot of my childhood wishing I was less socially inhibited so I could punch these people in the face. If my 4-year-old drew a picture I would say “Wow, what a lovely picture” and put it on the fridge or in their art book or whatever because it IS lovely, my freaking kid drew it. But I would not say to them “You’re a very talented little girl!” or “This looks like a year seven drew it!” or any of the other crap people have said to me. I think a lot of adults re-filter their childhood experiences and idealise them in a Chicken Soup for the Soul sort of way. But from what I can remember it’s a lot like being an adult, except you can’t do anything for yourself and nobody takes you seriously.
I know Santa is just in good fun, but it just reinforces the perception that kids are cute and gullible and you can ask them all sorts of idiotic questions for a hilariously innocent response. This is all in principle, but I don’t like teaching kids Santa is real. There are plenty of other fun things to do with your kids.
You are an artist (I am assuming that you still are on the architecture track), get used to people fawning over pieces that you are not pleased with. I have never produced a well-received piece that I was supremely pleased with. You will always think that something needs improvement here and there, or that if you had the chance to do it over you could change something for the better. You have to realize that most people are bad at dealing with children. The last thing they want to do is discourage any ambitions, especially artistic ones.
Personally, my parents never really stressed the Easter Bunny growing up because we were always 750 miles away from home on Easter. I did, however, have the pleasure of being raised on Santa Claus.
Being the youngest of 6 children made the whole SC experience quite memorable. All of my other siblings were past the stage by the time I was born. The year I had concluded that there was no Santa Claus I noticed something about family. My siblings and my parents loved the myth. They were not overjoyed at the deceit; they just seemed to really enjoy talking about Santa Claus with me. Much in the way that they loved to play pretend with me. Something about the magic of the holiday and the traditions really made them happy.
Now I have 3 nieces and I enjoy sharing stories of Santa Claus with them. Mind you, I am not sitting them on the internet and showing them the Santa Tracker or helping my siblings pen false letters from Santa in fancy stationary (Santa writes back?). Still, I have found that talking with a child that believes in Santa Claus is a refreshing experience.
There is nothing wrong with using Santa to teach a child the meaning and importance of selfless giving.
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I mean… let me elaborate. When I said the Cosby Show, I had a specific example in mind that suddenly made it clear to me why I never liked the show before. Bill Cosby was interviewing this little kid, right, and he asked if he had any hobbies. While the kid was hemming and hawing Bill leaned over and audibly whispered “Ballet.” So what does the kid say? Ballet. And then he has to get up perform his “ballet” in front of everyone. I mean there is teasing a kid, and then there is setting them up.
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I remember that show, didn’t see them all, but I did see some of them. I also (sigh…dating myself here) remember the Art Linkletter version. That one was on when I WAS a child, so I’m not that old. What I remember of these kids, is that they were, most of them, utter and complete hams. And were delighted to act up and be goofy. That said, stage fright is stage fright, whether the person is a kid, or an adult. I don’t claim to be an expert on the entertainment business, but I suspect that the whole whispering “ballet” bit was to break the ice and allow the kid to grab something to get his bearings back.
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Nope, no bad memories, just a lot of really boring ones. Of course, we were poor, so the best present I ever got from “Santa” was a bag of caramel popcorn. A pretty good tip-off as to his existence if you ask me. Just out of interest, where did you get that idea?]/quote] Well, since you stated this:
"I came to Australia when I was 4 1/2 and here they told me about Santa, Jesus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. We wrote letters to them. We sang songs about them. We did worksheets on them. Everyone else at school believed in them.’
In the midst of a litany of complaints about how adults lied to you, tricked you and just plain were “boring” or acted too weird for your discerning tastes, I assumed that the whole santa thing was part and parcel of those unpleasant experiences. My fault.
And I didn’t say you did. Please read my post again. I specifically said “some in this thread etc…”.
Second, again, most disagree that indulging in a fantasy/myth is lying.
It is no such thing. Parents are motivated by the child, to see things through a child’s eyes. If the children weren’t enjoying it, parents (normal ones, I’m not talking of abusive ones) wouldn’t continue to do something a child didn’t want or enjoy. It is the actions/reactions of the child that drives the actions of the parent.
What the hell kind of adults raised you? I’m torn between pity at your cynical and twisted view of such an innocent interaction between kids and parents, and exasperation at your hardcore black and white only view of the world in general.
Good gracious. You’re really very cynical and bitter aren’t you. Why on earth do you assign such evil motives to people who were likely (as I said in my previous post) just not being perfectly adept at “kidspeak” and trying to be nice in the bargain?
What is it you WOULD have these adults do instead, say “sorry I am not well versed in kid, go away”?
Again, not everyone has the “I can relate perfectly in every situation with a child” gene. Sometimes adults, in an effort to relate to the child simply does the thing that is nicest and what they can do best. Some, like the goofy uncle, crack jokes (I still think a dog on a business trip is hilarious, and I would have thought it as a kid as well), some try to relate to the child according to what they notice the child is interested in.
In your case, art. It’s highly doubtful that adults noticing your drawings said what they did in order to do some condescending “chicken soup. for the soul” type crap. Probably they just wanted to be nice. Shame on them.
for my eldest, Santa is more like a game. We don’t live in the US so miss Santa Claus at the mall and all that stuff. When she was 3.5 years old, we did Christmas in Thailand. She was screaming with delight to watch Santa (in 90 degrees humid weather) come into the resort on a long tail boat and then hand out presents to all the little kids.
At 5.5 years old, she’s pretty sure there was no Santa. But boy did she get a kick out of putting out some stuff for Santa to snack on. “Daddy, what do you think Santa wants?” “I bet he’s thirsty and would really like a beer. He might like a snack too, so some of that sourdough and cheddar probably hit’s the spot.” and we went on in that vein for a while.
then when I woke her up to say “didja hear that? sounds like reindeer.” She went tearing out to find some presents and that Santa had in fact quite enjoyed his beer. She also pointed out later in the day that the wrapping paper in the closet and the presents was exactly the same and “you’re busted Dad.” But I’m sure we’ll do the same thing next year and the next year and the next year and involve the bambinas who will be 2 next Xmas eve.
Like someone said very early - it’s entertainment.
Look, that’s just how I felt about it as a kid. Do you think I still feel that way? I really don’t care anymore, and I don’t think it’s “evil” or whatever words you’re going to put in my mouth next, but I do think it’s incredibly pointless to go to lengths to make your child believe. Reading back on my replies I can see that I’ve put way too much focus on the condescending part which wasn’t my intention because it’s really only a niggling bother at the back of my mind, as I said a few posts back. Here is what I think about Santa:
Santa is fun. I have no problems with parents who want to do Santa things. Santa is a nice guy and a nice legend and kids like him and he can be enjoyed even without beliving he actually exists, but it’s not like I’m going to bar parents from saying he’s real.
Christmas is fun. Christmas traditions are fun. I always liked Christmas for the gatherings even though I never got any real presents. It’s not as if belief in Santa is the only tradition, and it’s not as if not believing in him removes him from the scene altogether.
Making your kids believe in Santa is pointless. It’s one thing to play the game, and another to make crap up to make them keep believing. I think that’s where I didn’t make myself clear enough. My problem is only with the parents who do the writing to Santa, setting out cookies, and MOST importantly, insisting he’s real when the kids start to doubt. Making up answers to questions like “Why doesn’t Santa give any presents to the starving African kids?”, sitting them down to watch Miracle on 34th Street to restore their faith, telling them “Santa only gives presents to kids who believe”… I find that pointless. Denying them the truth when they start actively asking for it I think is where you start to cross the line between holding up the tradition and full-on lying. Plus if they’re asking, they probably don’t really believe anymore anyway. Kids grow up, deal already.
About the dishonesty thing… I have said over and over that I don’t see any malice or bad intent behind it and apparently it’s still not getting through to some people. It is just a thing that bothers me a little and I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling kids Santa exists because of it. I’ve tried explaining it but I can’t really find the words so just forget about it. It’s a very minor point compared to the rest, especially #3. I think what I’ve written now is much more representative of my opinion on the whole.
I would prefer not to discuss the fourth point anymore, because I don’t like how it’s making me sound and I don’t appreciate everyone’s fixation on it. Ever since I first brought it up everything else I’ve said has been ignored. It must be fun trying to pigeonhole me as a joyless Christmas nazi just because I don’t like the idea of telling kids Santa is real.
As for a reason why I think it is pointless, I think I’ve figured it out now: when babies are born, they have no idea who the hell Santa is. Belief in Santa isn’t something that comes standard with childhood development, you have to actually go out of your way to teach them about him. And then after they develop a little more they pick the belief apart and it falls away. It’s like an ink that doesn’t stick, that is incredibly arbitrary and that didn’t really need to be there in the first place. I hope this makes sense.
Two weeks ago Pepper Mill wrote a long letter in reply to our daughter MillCal’s letter to the Tooth Fairy, which she wrapped around her recently lost tooth. Pepper Mill wrote the whole damned thing in longhand, and on the back of the letter MilliCal had written, so the issdue of where the paper came from wouldn’t arise.
My first choice was to have the Holy Three of childhood be an agreed-upon fiction, with MilliCal aware of their mythical status. But Pepper Mill wants to play it straight, so we’ve played this t the hilt. MilliCal is an exceptionaly bright youngster, but she still believes. And sometinmes goes through impressive mental gyrations to do so.
I’m hoping that she’ll emerge from childhood with good memories of this, and not a desire to get back at her lying parents.
Next you are going to tell me that the Phone Cops won’t come and hunt me down if I mess with one of their phones they’ve leased to me.*
*A glittering SDMB No-Prize to whomever gets the reference first
I wouldn’t say anything at all. I don’t say anything to any child about their appearance for no reason.
Frankly, though, it’s none of my business what people choose to tell their own kids. What bothers me is that I might be expected to play along. All I know is, if anyone asks me a question, such as “Is Santa Clause real?” or “Is there a god?”, I’m going to answer with my honest knowledge or opinion, regardless of what the asker’s parents might think.
) I do plan to do the Tooth Fairy thing, though, but don’t plan to do anything to cover up that the Tooth Fairy is really me.
The quote was just one of my favorites on the topic.