We’re barely into December and the holiday season is exhausting me—physically, emotionally, spiritually, socially.
A few weeks ago, I gushed about how much I love this time of year and how important it is for me to keep up with our beloved family traditions. But the past few days haven’t been happy at all. Instead, I’ve been consumed by the stresses, irritations, and anxieties that have become all too familiar around this time of year. I imagine you know what I’m talking about: preparing for the dreaded cold & flu season; Christmas shopping for family, friends, teachers, colleagues, etc.; planning for upcoming holiday parties at school and work, and among family and friends; ensuring you’re caught up with work ahead of the holidays; steeling yourself for your kids’ extended school break; dodging the obnoxiously huge crowds while running endless errands; searching for the perfect Christmas tree and rushing to put up your outside lights on the one day it isn’t raining; caring for sick family members or friends; hosting events for charity donations; addressing and sending out dozens of holiday cards; maintaining your already-busy schedule at the busiest time of year. The list goes on and on and on.
It’s enough to drain even the most ardent Christmas cheermeister.
So, what gives? In the space of a few days, how did I go from giddy excitement to the holiday burnout I’m feeling right now?
For starters, I think my expectations are just way too high. Whenever this time of year rolls around, I go into crazy mode trying to plan all sorts of fun things to make my kids (and myself) happy. I scour the Internet in search of new activities and events that we can add to our already-robust calendar, and then I proceed to cram everything into the one very short month we have to enjoy this time of year. All in the name of tradition. And that’s when reality sets in. All my meticulous planning goes to pot because my kids get sick (and sick and then sick again), and I realize that I’ve placed so much importance on the holidays and my family’s traditions that they couldn’t possibly live up to my expectations. It’s no wonder I lose my mind this time of year.
Yesterday my husband and I took the kids on a train ride celebrating the Polar Express. We went last year for the first time and the kids loved it, so, you guessed it, we added it to our already-packed list of Christmas traditions. And right off the bat, our festive day started out kinda rocky. We were supposed to begin our day at a Jolly Jingle Jamboree party to make a craft, decorate a sugary confection, and participate in a sing-along and meet ‘n greet with Santa Claus. But we had to skip that event because my daughter came down with a cold the night before. It never fails: Any time we make plans, one or both kids get sick. It’s quite disheartening and not the way I want to start what’s supposed to be a fun and festive day.
So, we skipped the Jamboree but kept our plans to go to the Polar Express (no way were we going to eat that expense). The ride itself was lovely—it’s such a fun, cute experience for the kids (and for me) and mine truly adore it. But the spell was broken near the end of the ride when one of the performers offered to take our family picture and my daughter refused. She does this every time. I guess it’s her way of exerting control, but it infuriated me. Looking back now, I realize it didn’t have anything to do with the picture itself—it had to do with the fact that everything related to my daughter lately has become a fight. And I’m so tired of dealing with it, especially around the holidays.
Her reaction bothered me so much that on the hour-long ride home, I could feel my irritation erasing my holiday spirit. So much so that when my husband and I finally sat down that night to watch our first Christmas movie of the season, I couldn’t do it. I just wasn’t in any kind of happy mood to watch a holiday movie. And then I started in on myself for ruining our Christmas movie countdown tradition, asking my husband: Why don’t I want to watch a Christmas movie? Where’s the holiday spirit I had only a few days ago? Is it really that important to follow my holiday traditions to a “T” even if it means forcing myself to do so? He sat down next to me on the couch and gently consoled me, ensuring me that it’s OK to let go of the traditions once in a while. That it’s OK to not put so much pressure on myself to make everything perfect for the holiday season.
That comment, quite honestly, stopped me dead in my tracks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. He was right. Why did I put so much pressure on myself? Don’t we as parents have enough crap to think about and deal with and stress about without adding unnecessary holiday burdens to the list? Yes, yes, a resounding yes!
I think part of the reason I worry about keeping these traditions is because I still envision myself as that little kid who has nothing but happy and joyful memories of Christmas. And I don’t want to let those memories go. I want to keep them and soak them in again and again and again. And I want my kids to feel them and yearn for them, too. And when they act like they couldn’t care less—because, let’s face it, they are only almost 5 and 3 years old—I get upset and turn into the Grinch. And that’s not fair to my kids. It’s not their fault that I take on way too much at this time of year. It’s not their fault that I don’t want to give up my childhood. It’s not their responsibility to make my holidays special and happy and festive and care-free. It’s my responsibility, and one at which I’m clearly failing.
I get so wrapped up in creating lists and planning and organizing that I lose sight of what’s really important. I need to remind myself that it’s OK not to watch a Christmas movie one night. It’s OK to put aside my Christmas list for one day–or even two. It’s OK to skip a holiday party or say no to an organized event. It’s OK to take a year off from baking Christmas cookies, or making pierogis, or riding the Polar Express. But, most of all, I have to remind myself that it’s OK to lose that holiday spirit sometimes, because only in losing can we truly see what we’re missing.
And no matter what I’m feeling this holiday season, the truth is, I don’t want to miss a thing. I want to help my kids assemble their gingerbread houses. I want to watch The Polar Express 100 times. I want to color pictures of Santa and Frosty and Rudolph. I want to bake and decorate Christmas cookies with my daughter. I want to sit on a train and sing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs with my babies.
Because my kids are the reason for the season. And if ensuring their happiness means more effort and sacrifice on my end, well, then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!