The Ghost of Christmas Disappointment

Later that day, still high on many, many drugs (10lb 5oz first baby still makes me cringe lol), I was wheeled into another ward for a Christmas service. The vicar was wearing a kilt or at least I think he was because I daren't ask anyone in case I was hallucinating. It was a very surreal service as we were all laid in beds in various drugged up states with a man in a kilt wandering around singing and giving us bread and wine (I'm sure the wine wasn't a good idea on top of everything else we were full of lol).

I also had a baby at Christmas, DD2 will be 40 this year. When baby and I were being pushed on a trolley to the ward, I noticed 2 strangely dressed people standing in the corridor and wondered who they had come to visit at that early hour (it was 2am).
In the cold light of Christmas morning when I staggered to the bathroom I realised they were part of a Nativity scene and were life-sized Mary and Joseph.

I was in the delivery room pushing my 10lb 5oz son out in the early hours of Christmas morning when Santa came to visit. He came into the room, took my pulse and left a teddy bear for the baby.

Two of our DGC were just getting into our car this afternoon, when up our very quiet road pedalled Santa on his bike. He had all his red gear on and had a flowing white beard, but no cycling helmet I'm afraid. He was followed by 2 small children cycling behind along the pavement.
"Well", said DGS, "You don't see that everyday." Aged 8, he still half believes.

Both of mine were almost ten when they stopped believing. In both cases it was caused by moving schools

DD, aged almost ten was in the top year at her primary school and with the rest of her class was given the task of writing to the younger children, pretending to be Father Christmas. She came home in floods of tears and was still grizzling on xmas day.

DS as a chorister had to board, so of course there were no surprise stockings. Instead he was told that we had to buy 20 small toys, one for each chorister, and they would be dished out between their stockings. He was far more philosophical about it, having correctly surmised that most of the other parents had more money than us so maybe he would do quite well out of it!

However, both of them say that they too would carry on the tradition if possible, because they loved having that belief in magic. The DGCs don't have a visit from Santa until they are at our house, because we have a chimney and my daughter feels that she wants them to have the same experience of sending their letters up the chimney that she had. It does rather sound from your experiences on here as if DGS's days as a believer are numbered, as he is six. He has quite a few older boy cousins, which won't help. I remember having to bribe one of my nephews to keep quiet.

One year I got a new school blazer !!
Don't remember any fun stuff.

He was driving a bus here on Saturday, beard, whiskers, red robe and all. I think he must be moonlighting to pay for all those presents.

Well, I'm sorry folks I KNOW he is real. He visited me when I was 6 and ill in bed at home and my mum and dad were with him. He was the image of the FC you see on Christmas cards - smiley and rotund - and he brought me a little blue dolls cot with a little pink doll in it. He didn't stay long because of course he was busy.
So when the GC ask if FCC is real I just tell them this true story

Sorry that's NORAD, not NASA!

We called at DD's house this afternoon, and as we were leaving, she asked conspiratorially "Is the big box you brought over the other day from you, or from Santa?" "From Santa of course," I said, "Who else would it be from?" I don't know if GS, an otherwise quite sophisticated 7 year old, has doubts about Santa, but I like to think he's clinging onto a vestige of the magic of it all, although maybe not for much longer. We still track Santa's sleigh on the NASA website on Christmas Eve!

My DD has discovered an app for her phone that will tell if you are on Santa's nice or naughty list. DGS1 was misbehaving, and after a good telling off she showed him Santa's naughty list and he was horrified to see his name on it. He was well behaved and very good to all his siblings for the rest of the day, so at bedtime she showed him Santa's nice list. He was extremely relieved to find his name there, and has tried his very best to be good since, which is quite difficult for him as he has Asbergers Syndrome and his mood swings can be volatile to say the least.

I remember having Scarlet fever when I was five and seeing Santa creep into my room and leave presents. Years later I used to tell my mother that I saw his red suit and felt it really was him, she spoilt it by saying I had a very high temperature and was delirious all over the Christmas period

Everybody (in our family) knows that all the presents in your stocking are from Santa. The presents other people give you are all downstairs in the living room.

As a child I lived in a rambling farmhouse and Santa always came down the chimney in our ''High days, holidays and funeral teas'' room. There was another room which was rather grandly called 'the playroom' which was accessed through the first. I was always scared of going through on my own (at any time of the year!) in case Santa came down the chimney and saw me. And as for going through in the dark .............. not bloomin likely as we did not have electric then so no light switch !

Santa Claus - the Movie with Dudley Moore is really him you know. Best Christmas film ever.

Well I've never had coal in my Christmas stocking, so he must be real! X

I don't understand - OF COURSE HE IS REAL!!!

Our DSs never asked and still believe even though 2 of them are now fathers. They know that FC won't come unless they believe. Actually Mr N still believes too!

I think our system worked because FC only fills the stockings and all the presents are from people. I have to say that poor old FC has the dickens of a job finding lots of suitable very small things to put in the stockings!

Apparently I took against Father Christmas in a big way when I was a little boy, so anonymous presents were inscribed as coming from Eeyore. I was happy with that, as they were always very good ones!

I always felt a bit uncomfortable with the Father Xmas bit with my children and didnt go on about it too much. I always said that if they asked if he was real I wouldn't be able to fib and so would tell them that it was just a nice story. They just somehow stopped believing without any great dramas apart from when my son's friend pointed out that his gifts had been bought by his parents from Argos, not made by elves ( said child had an older brother and knew the truth from about 3).

Oh thank you Eloethan I do push the boat out at Christmas- I overfed and watered the neighbours yesterday - very quiet in our street this morning!!!

My DS was hugely relieved when he asked me very confidentially if Father Chrustmas was pretend - a boy at school had told him it was - and I confirmed it. He had always been scared stiff of someone coming into the house at night and even worse, into his bedroom. I doubt very much whether any child believes in FC after the age of 8 - there's always one at school who tells!

Teetime Your very sad childhood Christmas memory makes my disappointment re the non-existence of Santa seem totally insignificant.

I do hope you have had many good Christmases since then.

DH and I took our three to Beamish yesterday. They make a real effort at Christmas time and the Santa Claus is wonderfully realistic and actually takes time chatting to the children rather than rushing them through on a conveyor belt.

The two youngest (4 and 6) chatted away with him, telling him what they would like him to bring for them. Eldest DGD (8) just sat there staring at him (weighing him up). Santa then said "well then, which one of you was it that I heard was a bit naughty last Thursday?" Eldest DGD looked at her brother and sister and they each pointed at each other, it was so comical. Santa then said " oh dear that's typical.... Everyone's blaming each other" "never mind as long as you have all been good since then I will strike that off my naughty list" needless to say they didn't stop talking about it all the way home and it was the first thing they told mummy and daddy when we arrived back.

It was Christmas Eve and I was five years old, my mother had left home three months previously, and waking up after hearing noises downstairs I crept down (intrepid huh?) to find my very drunken father crying and being noisily sick over a few unwrapped gifts. The next day the gifts were wrapped and my dad told me and my siblings that Father Christmas had been, but we all knew differently!! I didn't have a really good Christmas again until I was in my thirties.