No Expectations (or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Holidays)
by Tess F. |
November 21, 2011 03:49 PM |
1 comments
Tess F.
Location:
Cranford, NJ
Favorite Flavor:
Pumpkin Spice
If you could travel back in time, what era would you live in? I like where I am now. Facebook. iPhones. Movies on Demand.
How do you unwind after a long day? DVR'd TV with my husband, who always makes me laugh.
Three things you cannot live without…My family, my iPhone, my coffee.
I am a member of the Coffee-mate Brew Crew.
Let me tell you something about holiday rituals. They aren’t for me. It’s not that I don’t love the idea—and the reality, when it actually happens. It’s that I’ve learned (the hard way) that expecting a storybook ideal year after year can sometimes put a real damper on your holiday spirit.
The problem I have with rituals is that they go hand-in-hand with expectations, a “dirty word” in parenting if I’ve ever heard one. Taking two small children to sit on Santa’s lap can be difficult enough—add crisp, clean matching outfits, tag-a-long relatives with cameras, and hopes for a round of hot chocolate (or worse, shopping) afterwards, and you could have a real nightmare before Christmas on your hands: made much worse by the fact you expected far too much in the first place.
You could say that some of my holiday ritual reluctance comes from my own upbringing. My husband, raised in the Norman Rockwell school of merriment, certainly thinks so. It wasn’t that my family didn’t have a few small traditions—I guess they were just more unconventional ones, and if we skipped a year, it wasn’t such a big deal.
When my husband and I first started dating, I was blown away by his family’s holiday celebrations. Huge, real firs. Homemade gingerbread houses and egg nog. And perhaps the most amazing, especially if you knew my husband—monogrammed Santa hats for everyone.
When Dave and I got married and especially after we had kids, I started feeling a little less than fond about his family’s traditions, and a little more pressured, as well as a little bit inadequate. Not much of a cook and certainly no baker, how could I possibly deliver the kind of holiday fanfare he had grown up with? The solution: I don’t.
So, you’re thinking, why can’t she just come up with her own holiday rituals? Sure I can. But I keep a few crucial rules in mind:
Holiday Ritual Rule #1: Know your strengths. Decorating in a quirky, fun, and colorful way is my forte. From paper chains to snowflake mobiles, I try to make our home special in its own unique way. And the older they get, the more helpful the kids can be in this endeavor. But if they don’t feel like helping…no big deal.
Holiday Ritual Rule #2: Know when to bow out gracefully. When the expectation is too high, such as baking the traditional family bread that my husband adores, I leave it to my mother-in-law. Similarly, when we’ve hit the tree lot, found something perfect, and headed home, it’s time to call it a day. Trimming can wait till tomorrow. Hence…
Holiday Ritual Rule #3 Watch the clock. Especially with kids under the age of 5, rituals should last about an hour—maybe an hour and a half if driving is involved. Last year we had a brilliantly successful tree-finding excursion, but trying to trim it that night too sort-of pushed everyone over the edge. The kids were tired, we got frustrated, and the evening was memorable…for being kinda horrible.
Holiday Ritual Rule #4: Takeaway food = takeaway stress. True, one of my fondest childhood holiday memories is sitting in my grandmother’s tiny Brooklyn kitchen while she and my mom and aunts prepped, cooked, and cleaned up after holiday feasts. But while the “girl time” was nice, it wasn’t exactly relaxing for the ladies. So far I’ve hosted two family holiday gatherings in my house, and I’ve catered them all. It’s the greatest holiday gift I can give to myself!
Tell me friends, do you believe in holiday rituals? Do you get intimidated by expectations? Which seasonal Coffee-mate flavors do you make a habit of bringing to the table?