When I was a child, my family had several holiday traditions. We always made and decorated homemade sugar cookies (even though the clean-up process often lasted longer than the fun of decorating lasted, much to my mom’s frustration), my twin sister and I always had new homemade dresses for Christmas church services, and we never had presents under the tree until Christmas morning. While I can remember some fun associated with those traditions, I mostly remember how frazzled my mother was as she tried to make each of those moments match a particular vision she had of holiday magic.
Even though my mother has never been someone who anyone would describe as chill or laid-back, Christmas always seemed to make it worse. To get the magical “wow” moment of a Christmas tree suddenly filled with gifts on Christmas morning, she’d invariably end up having a terrible Christmas Eve. She'd spend the day rushing to finish sewing a dress or making a matching scarf for someone. She would generally lock herself in my parents' bedroom for facing a mountain of presents to wrap for our family of six. She’d emerge grumpy and snappish, finding herself short on tape or wrapping paper.
Instead of a cozy night of hot chocolate and family time, we’d be bundled into itchy new Christmas dresses and hustled to church for the Christmas Eve carol services while my mother complained about how much there was still to do to get ready for the big dinner and present time the next day.
My mom, like so many others, was just too stressed to feel real holiday joy.
Christmas morning always did feel a little bit magical but our present opening was often halted so my mom could try to get the perfect picture of holiday joy, instead of just letting us experience a genuine moment of gift bliss. While all of these memories of the pursuit of holiday magic causing holiday stress instead happened 30 years ago, I don’t think things have gotten better for many of the moms I know now.
With the advent of the internet and social media, the pressure to create a kind of picture-perfect, totally Instagram-worthy magical holiday season for kids has only increased.
There’s that damn Elf on the Shelf, with the expectation of thinking about creative ways to display it. There’s the pressure to have the perfect family outfits that are coordinated but not too matchy-matchy for the holiday card photo shoot. A glance at Instagram or Pinterest makes it clear that having a decorated tree or simple menorah isn’t nearly enough anymore. We’re supposed to have tablescapes, and lighting themes, and outdoor light displays that can be seen from space.
Add to all of that the pressures and expense around finding the perfect gifts for kids and family and no wonder so many women hit the end of December feeling totally broke, exhausted, and feeling underappreciated.
It is A LOT and, let’s be honest, most of it usually falls on mom shoulders.
Now, there are some people who love going all out for the holidays. And to the holiday elves who find joy in wrapping and decorating and shopping and baking and all of that, I say: Go on with your holly jolly selves! I'm all about people finding joy however they find it. But I’m choosing a different path for myself and I think my kids will be better for it.
I’m finding my holiday joy in keeping it simple.
This year, my little family will celebrate Christmas in the ways we always do. We’ll decorate a tree and hang a strand of lights outside. I’ll wrap a few presents on each of the weekends in December with paper (no bows, not homemade tags, no fancy stuff) and slowly add them to the tree. We won’t travel. I'll mostly stick to the budget we set for for gifts. We’ll avoid the crowded stores, because I bought most of the presents online months ago. We’ll skip long lines for Santa pictures. We’ll eat cookies from premade dough and we’ll have pizza on Christmas Eve.
I’m going to give my kids the gift of a mom who is enjoying the holidays, too.
When I think about the Christmases of my childhood, I don’t remember feeling like my mom was happy. She seemed stressed about money, which made me feel guilty for wanting more presents. As we made our way through our holiday traditions, it felt like it was because we had to in order to seem like a happy family, and not because we actually were a happy family. As we move deeper into December, I want my kids to have different memories.
I want them to remember a mom who was relaxed and happy to be with them. I want them to think about the long, dark days of the holiday season as the time that our family got cozier. We’ll have our own kind of quiet magic that comes from not stressing about having the perfect holiday. We’ll play board games and read the new books everyone gets for Christmas and nothing we do will be influenced by how it looks on Instagram. I'm going for joy, peace, and calm this year and will be a better mom for it.
