I’m Telling Santa: The Holiday Magic, The Chaos, and Why I Don’t Want Christmas to End

Christmas through a child’s eyes really is its own kind of magic.

The lights. The cookies. The random Amazon boxes on the porch. The music.

The unwavering belief that a large bearded man flies through the sky every night in December just to monitor their behavior.

Kids fully commit to this storyline — no plot holes, no logistics, no follow-up questions.

Just pure confidence that Santa is watching you while you sleep and somehow managing toy production in his spare time.

And I’ll be honest: as a parent, I don’t want Christmas to end.

Not because I’m overly sentimental or emotionally stable…

but because “I’m telling Santa Claus” has been the only effective parenting strategy I’ve had for the last month.

Santa is the original behavior modification program.

And I have been using it aggressively.

December Is a Fantasy Land Where Parenting Works

For 30 magical days, I get to say things like:

• “Santa’s watching.”

• “Santa saw that.”

• “Santa knows.”

And suddenly:

• shoes get put on

• vegetables are eaten

• teeth are brushed

• beds are made

All without negotiations, tears, or existential crises.

It is honestly wild what children are capable of when they believe a man with a list is cross-referencing their moral choices.

In December, parenting is effortless.

Because consequences come with twinkle lights and a soundtrack.

January Is the Slap in the Face We Don’t Deserve

January arrives and suddenly there are:

• no elves

• no reindeer

• no surveillance system

• and no universal threat of toy deprivation

Just me.

And my personality.

And let’s be honest — my personality is not nearly as effective as the North Pole.

I can’t say:

• “I’m telling Santa.”

• “Santa saw that.”

• “Santa won’t like that attitude.”

Instead, I’ll have to parent the old-fashioned way:

• boundary-setting

• consistent discipline

• emotional development

• positive reinforcement

• and other exhausting psychological nonsense

I’m not ready.

I don’t have the energy.

I’m still recovering from last January.

The Holiday Delusion We All Buy Into

December is the only time of year when all of us — adults included — suspend reality and collectively agree that:

• pajamas count as outfits

• cookies count as meals

• ice cream counts as “holiday spirit”

• random Target purchases count as “tradition”

And nobody questions it.

Nobody judges it.

Nobody tries to stop it.

It’s called holiday immunity, and it should be federally protected.

Kids wake up every morning like they’re starring in a Hallmark movie.

Everything is magical, sparkly, sugary, dramatic, and loud.

There is singing.

There is screaming.

There is stickiness.

There are VERY big emotions.

But somehow, all of it feels softer — because it’s wrapped in Christmas.

Christmas With Kids Is Chaos Wrapped in Wonder

We have:

• glitter everywhere

• suspicious cookie crumbs

• wrapping paper shrapnel

• mystery tape stuck to absolutely everything

• and an elf who may or may not have caused emotional damage

But we also have:

• tiny voices screaming “LOOK LIGHTS!!!”

• little feet running to the tree every morning

• eyes widening at the thought of magic

• hearts that believe in joy without evidence

Children turn December into a personality.

And we, as parents, become unwilling participants in a month-long performance art piece called

“Make Memories or Die Trying.”

It is hilarious.

It is exhausting.

It is beautiful.

We Pretend We Are Creating Magic for Them

But truthfully?

They create magic for us.

Kids remind us:

• to notice the lights

• to enjoy small things

• to believe in possibilities

• to get excited over nothing

• to live loudly and fully

• without being embarrassed

They don’t just see magic —

they are magic.

Christmas isn’t special because of the decorations or the gifts or the events.

It’s special because children are built to experience wonder without restraint.

And being around that — even when it’s loud, sticky, and chaotic —

feels like a gift.

So Yes, I’m Going to Miss It

I’m going to miss:

• their sleepy morning runs to the tree

• their dramatic reactions to ornaments

• their intense emotional investment in candy canes

• their absolute belief in invisible magic

• their tiny voices threatening each other with Santa violations

And I’m especially going to miss the one phrase that has kept my household from imploding: “I’m telling Santa Claus.”

January is coming.

Reality is coming.

And so are the tantrums without consequences.

But for now —

we’re still in the bubble.

The magic bubble.

The soft, sugary, glitter-covered, laughter-filled bubble.

And I am soaking up every last ridiculous second of it.

So Here’s to Christmas Through a Child’s Eyes

To the wonder.

The mess.

The nonsense.

The glitter.

The joy.

The bribes.

The cookies.

The chaos.

The traditions.

The laughter.

The love.

And the parenting shortcuts.

We’ll cook real vegetables in January.

We’ll find discipline in February.

We will absolutely never have balance.

But for now,

we have magic.

And that feels like enough.

Actually — that feels like everything.