There have been a few (er... a lot) of pre-Christmas emotional outbursts at our house this week. At the risk of shattering the image I like to portray of myself as having it all together, I'm going to admit that it's been me who's been having the meltdowns, not the boys. I never understood when I was a child why my mom would get upset over certain things as the holidays came nearer, but I really, really do now. Now that
I'm a grown-up and a mom who wants to make Christmas special for her family, every year I get to a point where I suddenly feel overwhelmed by all of the things I have left to do, a number which seems grossly disproportionate to how many days I have left before Christmas, and it turns me into a bit of an emotional wreck. Someday I hope I'll learn to remember that so many of the things I get worked up about don't even really matter in the big picture of things.
Today I needed a reminder of the sentiments I shared in
this post about the real joys of Christmas, which I wrote a year ago today. I thought I would share it again here for anyone who also finds themselves feeling stressed out right now. I hope it helps to bring a few moments of peace to your week.
The Real Joys of Christmas
Despite the fact that no part of me wanted to enter through the store doors this
time of year, I popped into Walmart today after my yoga class to pick up a few
things we needed around the house. As I expected, the aisles were a dangerous
labyrinth of carts and people, half of them frantic and running, and the other
half seemingly lost as they wandered aimlessly, preventing others from getting
by. I managed to get out of the store within fifteen minutes and only almost
got run over once, but I was glad to return to the relative calm of my own home
afterwards. (And let me reassure you that I'm not trying to be smug about the
zen-like state of my home during the holiday season with that last comment -- it
was only calm because I was the only one here. If you had been around this
evening when the four of us were home, and Will was wailing over nothing in the
family room while Noah simultaneously (accidentally) shattered a glass all over
the kitchen floor, and then I lost it, you'd know that our house can be just
as crazy a place as Walmart at Christmastime!)
I know firsthand how easy
it is to get caught up in a hectic, emotional state this time of year. We feel
we NEED to get all the right gifts, make all the right foods, decorate our house
in just the right way, fit in all the right activities, and generally produce a
Christmas that is Kodak moment-worthy. (Broken glass all over the kitchen
floor somehow doesn't fit with that picture, I'm thinking.) In all of our
complicated holiday rushing about, it's also very easy to forget that the most
beautiful and true joys of Christmas are often the simplest things, things that
don't require a trip to Walmart or a Martha Stewart-esque flair for perfection
(and that won't be ruined by a broken glass or two!).
Real joy is sharing
steaming mugs of hot cocoa with your family around the kitchen table after an
afternoon of sledding or skating or road hockey together. It's reliving
favourite old family stories with your parents and siblings and other relatives,
laughing together and fondly remembering those dear souls who are now only with
you in spirit. It's opening the mailbox and being greeted by the wonderful
smell of anisette wafting through the box of homemade genettis that your grandma
so thoughtfully sent you, and suddenly being brought back to the happy Christmas
Eves of your youth spent at her kitchen table. It's taking a few moments late
at night with your spouse to look at your beautiful sleeping children, their
faces softly lit by the Christmas lights from the hallway, and to marvel
together at how you ever got so lucky to have them. It's giving gifts of the
heart, by sharing part of yourself with those who really need their spirits
lifted this time of year.
When I think back to the Christmases of my
childhood, I don't remember very clearly what I received as gifts, and I
know that Christmas was never "perfect" (because I'm sure despite all of my
parents' efforts, my brothers and I probably wailed over nothing and broke a few
glasses, too). What I do remember with great fondness, though, is the feeling
of being warm, and safe, and content at Christmas, feelings that came from being
surrounded by a family I love and who showed me in the most meaningful ways that
they love me, too. Whenever I start to feel frantic about getting ready for
Christmas, I try to remember what I hope my boys will remember about their
childhood Christmases when they grow up, and suddenly all of the other stuff
seems less important.
During what can be a very hectic holiday season, I
wish you and your family many moments of real and peaceful Christmas joy.