Is it the New Year yet?
I have a love/hate relationship with the holiday season.
I have found ways to deal with most of it. I no longer stress about Christmas cards. Sometimes I send them, sometimes I don't and when they do it is sometimes in January. It isn't that I value my friendships any less or careless about the people who have meant a lot to me over the years. It's just that they have become a duty rather than a pleasure. I want to have time to suck some marrow out of the season.
I no longer go to Christmas parties just because I was invited. If I want to stay home in a fluffy bathrobe watching "It's a Wonderful Life" for the zillionth time or "The Bishop's Wife" or "Christmas in Connecticut" (but only the old one with Barbara Stanwyck). I might paint wooden ornaments or take a nap or read a book. If I really want to go to the parties, I go. If my children are invited and really want to go, I go. But I don't do random parties.
I'm trying to end the random shopping, too. I still over-do the shopping thing, but I've determined a day I will stop, and then I stop, ready or not.
This year I realized that I was really looking forward to having Cheyenne come home from college. Now that she's here, my anticipation has waned. I no longer feel the pressure of the season, and just want to sit back and enjoy what we already have--each other.
There are more things I plan to scale back on in the future. This year Annika, Faith, Seth and I were shopping for our Christmas tree when I announced, "When Seth leaves home I think I'll save the fuss and get a fake tree." Seth, the 11-year-old for whom I've been trying to preserve the tradition piped up, "Why don't we get one now and save all the bother." Hmmmm. . . I guess he isn't the traditionalist I thought he might me.
I already don't cook treats for all my neighbors. I like looking at the treats they bring to us, and when we get our huge shipment of pies after Thanksgiving (long story, please don't ask) I make sure the neighbors each get one, or two or three or four, and whenever possible, I let them pick out their favorite kind. We have our favorite foods that we make during the holiday--quiche, ham sometimes, Papa Murphy's pizza--stuff that will be rich and filling and make us feel that we have sinned--but not enough to keep us out of heaven.
This year we will go out to eat at all Cheyenne's favorite places. We'll watch movies, and play Trivial Pursuit and monopoly. We'll count our blessings and resolve to make more blessings in the new year. We'll go to Grandma's and Grandpa's and see the relatives, and we'll come home and just be together. That's all and that's plenty.
I have found ways to deal with most of it. I no longer stress about Christmas cards. Sometimes I send them, sometimes I don't and when they do it is sometimes in January. It isn't that I value my friendships any less or careless about the people who have meant a lot to me over the years. It's just that they have become a duty rather than a pleasure. I want to have time to suck some marrow out of the season.
I no longer go to Christmas parties just because I was invited. If I want to stay home in a fluffy bathrobe watching "It's a Wonderful Life" for the zillionth time or "The Bishop's Wife" or "Christmas in Connecticut" (but only the old one with Barbara Stanwyck). I might paint wooden ornaments or take a nap or read a book. If I really want to go to the parties, I go. If my children are invited and really want to go, I go. But I don't do random parties.
I'm trying to end the random shopping, too. I still over-do the shopping thing, but I've determined a day I will stop, and then I stop, ready or not.
This year I realized that I was really looking forward to having Cheyenne come home from college. Now that she's here, my anticipation has waned. I no longer feel the pressure of the season, and just want to sit back and enjoy what we already have--each other.
There are more things I plan to scale back on in the future. This year Annika, Faith, Seth and I were shopping for our Christmas tree when I announced, "When Seth leaves home I think I'll save the fuss and get a fake tree." Seth, the 11-year-old for whom I've been trying to preserve the tradition piped up, "Why don't we get one now and save all the bother." Hmmmm. . . I guess he isn't the traditionalist I thought he might me.
I already don't cook treats for all my neighbors. I like looking at the treats they bring to us, and when we get our huge shipment of pies after Thanksgiving (long story, please don't ask) I make sure the neighbors each get one, or two or three or four, and whenever possible, I let them pick out their favorite kind. We have our favorite foods that we make during the holiday--quiche, ham sometimes, Papa Murphy's pizza--stuff that will be rich and filling and make us feel that we have sinned--but not enough to keep us out of heaven.
This year we will go out to eat at all Cheyenne's favorite places. We'll watch movies, and play Trivial Pursuit and monopoly. We'll count our blessings and resolve to make more blessings in the new year. We'll go to Grandma's and Grandpa's and see the relatives, and we'll come home and just be together. That's all and that's plenty.