Nobody can do everything, but everybody can do something.
Unknown
Yesterday was not a good day for me. My husband and son went to get the Christmas tree and I stayed home and got the space ready where it was going to go. When they got home, I felt disagreeable and tense, which ended with my husband and I having an argument. Today, thinking back over why I felt so stressed, I decided that, along with missing my daughter, it was about unreasonable expectations. This is my son's last Christmas as a "child." Well, he's hardly a child; he's a 6' 1" tall, athletic young man who will be graduating from high school next June. He probably isn't going away to university, still, the clock is ticking. After more thought, I realized that my expectations for this Christmas are not realistic. I want this to be the "perfect" Christmas, because it feels like "the last" for our little family.
I shouldn't really worry about it anyway, because the first Christmas with our son may have already been the "perfect" one because everything was new. Our foster daughters always went home for Christmas to be with their first families and I didn't have the opportunity to raise my daughter, so having a baby to share Christmas with was magical. We lived in the Yukon then. Our son (B.) was 10 months old and he was fascinated by the set of Swedish angel chimes we had. He would stand near the table they were sitting on and watch, rapt, as the candles heated up and the chimes spun. We had to watch so that he wouldn't try to grab the candles and burn his hands. Of course, he also had other fascinations, including his discovery of mandarine oranges, which he still devourers at a prodigious rate and his love of the Christmas tree lights and toys, and, well, you get the picture.
On Christmas Eve, we had friends over and enjoyed a casual meal of lasagna and salad and other goodies. Then we went to an ecumenical service. B. loved the music, but got restless during the quiet times. Christmas Day we opened presents, phoned family and took a nap. The only present that I remember was the large plush hand-made dinosaur that I got at a local craft fair that was as big as B. We still have that dinosaur upstairs in a basket of stuffed animals that B. is still unwilling to part with. It was a gray day that first Christmas and minus 26 Celsius, not suitable weather for a walk with a 10 month-old-baby and so we enjoyed ourselves inside. On Boxing Day (a holiday here in Canada), we went to an open house where there were other children. B. received a wooden teddy bear ornament to hang on the tree, which we still have. (photo above, B.'s first Christmas)
Flash forward to Christmas, 2011. Yesterday, my husband and son got the tree, which they always do. Happily, I can delegate that task to them because I have unpleasant memories of my parents fighting about what made the perfect tree. I always declare whatever tree my two guys come home with: maybe the best ever. And, from my point of view, it is. I'm easy about that part of the Christmas routine. What I'm not happy about is the unrealistic to-do list that is running through my head and interferes with my ability to relax and enjoy myself. I'm pretty sure this is a woman thing. Some men may take on a larger role in preparing for the holidays, but that's the exception. Most men are like my friend M.'s husband, who she said, "Didn't even seem to notice that it was Christmas-time." My husband helps with the Christmas tree and, thankfully, likes to cook. Gifts, organization, cleaning, etc., etc. is up to me. Fair? Not really, but, left to their own devices my husband and son wouldn't care enough to clean the house. It matters to me and so I do it.
Why not simplify? Simplifying isn't as easy as it sounds. I took a look around the web to find a good article on simplifying and, to be honest, many of them seemed like more work than not simplifying! Just reading these "How to Simplify" to-do lists made me tired. Whew! I did find one post that seemed to get to the heart of what simplifying should be about, so I'm sharing it.
What about my own "Good Enough Holiday" list? Here goes.
- Spend as much time as possible alone
- Avoid malls and noisy, crowded spaces
- Let yourself be sad or mad when you need to
- Only say yes to things you really want to do
- Bake some cookies (or whatever you bake), not dozens and dozens of cookies
- Go for walks whenever possible
- Take time to sing
- Don't stress over "the perfect gift." There isn't one.
- Buy lots of candles to light up the dark nights
- Take time to thank family, friends, and strangers who give you a reason to smile
- Give back in whatever ways you can (see next posting)
- Cut yourself - and everyone else - some slack
And if all else fails, put on the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas and dance.