One of the things that I have learned, mostly the hard way, is that Good Enough is sometimes good enough.
Take Christmas --the celebration and tradition part. You know, the part that does not bring peace to your little part of the earth.
We often make ourselves a little crazy, ok, a lot crazy, trying to have the “Perfect Christmas.” I remember driving to every toy store in 6 towns to find a two inch tall Yoda figure. Never did find it for Christmas. He liked it just as well for his birthday in January.
Being the Chief Shopper, Wrapper, Sewer, Knitter, Cookie Baker, Candy Maker, Gingerbread House Builder, Card Addresser, and Party Coordinator made for a mom that was more Grinch than Mrs. Claus. In December, I slept little and laughed less. But we had more kinds of cookies on the platter than Martha Stewart, and handmade gifts for all my day care kids.
My one firm rule was that NO ONE in the family ate the Christmas cookies until Christmas Eve. With five kids, and one husband, I knew from experience that any batch of cookies could be consumed before the last pan was cool. So for weeks, my kids came home to a house that smelled like the Keebler Elves had moved in, and were given Oreos for their snack.
I did not go unchallenged. The most common conversation in our house was, “Can I have a cookie?” “Not until Christmas Eve.” Followed by whining. And that was just Allan!
Then one year, when my second son was about 19, something snapped. It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve, and I was frantically preparing dinner for our family and guests, getting things ready for Santa to decorate our tree later that night (and THAT is another story altogether.) and making candy cane shaped coffee cakes for Christmas breakfast, when Nate came in the door. “Can I have some coffee cake?” By this time, it was asked more as a family ritual because everyone knew my answer would be, “Not until tomorrow.” Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or that I had been chasing people away from cookies for days, or just defeat, but I said “Yes.”
Oddly, he backed away, looked around, and seeing his dad come in, said, “She said I can have some coffee cake. Do you think it is a trick?” His very wise father said, “I wouldn’t risk it.”
I assured them that it was indeed not a trick. They could eat one of the three coffee cakes that I had made -- or all three. They just had to know that I was not making any more, and if they ate them then, Christmas morning breakfast could be Cheerios. After much debate and conferring, they decided to risk it.
The result was that one coffee cake was eaten early. Christmas still came. Everything was fine. They were happy. And I learned that sometimes traditions can evolve.
We still are working on the tinsel issue. We use old-fashioned icicles on our tree, like my parents did. Since Santa decorated our tree until just a few years ago, the tinsel was always arranged in single icicles—no clumps, no bare spots, no globs of silver. When we began to decorate with help from our children, their tinsel standards were not quite up to Santa’s standard or mine. After a few years of tinsel advice, I noticed that people began to disappear when we got to that last stage of the tree. So last year, I handed the tinsel over to Zach and said “Have to it.”
Oddly, he backed away, looked around and said to his dad, “Do you think it is a trick?” This time his very wise father just shrugged. Now, Zach was 26 years old, and very artistic. It wasn’t much of a risk on my part. But he still isn’t quite as into it as I am, so it did look a bit different, but nice, very nice. And we finished together, which was WAY more fun.
I have learned that when December starts making me crazy, it isn’t December; it is my ridiculous expectations, and the unnecessary things I put on myself. I’ve learned to put on some Christmas music and actually sit and listen to it, until the crazy passes.
Of course, it might help that the kids have all moved out…
Merry Christmas.
by Melanie G.
