My mother knew how to pull off a memorable, larger-than-life Christmas.
Years later, when I happened to be in Germany at Christmastime, I realized
where those amazing childhood Christmases originated. The Germans go
all-out. My parent's, with their deep German roots, made everything
magical. The best part was when Santa himself walked through our front
door on Christmas Eve dragging boxes and boxes of toys. While my brother
and I tore into the toys, Santa sipped eggnog laced with whiskey and
later, more than a little wobbly, tippled off to my cousins' houses.
It's only natural; we want to give our children the kind of
Christmases that we enjoyed. So when my girls came along I planned huge
Christmas festivities, including a living room full of toys they could
only wade through. They loved it, and so did I, but I was exhausted
by Christmas. Two years I spent Christmas Day lying on the sofa too
sick to move.
Then as my family grew more complex, I came to realize that I was
taking responsibility for everything being perfect. I became obsessed
with implementing all of my mom's flourishes and adding a few
of my own. I felt guilt when I skimped in any way. One Christmas Eve,
after midnight mass, I panicked trying to sort through a clothesbasket
full of tiny items I'd purchased for nine stockings. I couldn't
remember what went in which stocking.
A Christmas Confession
I'm admitting that Christmas has been a problem for me and I'm
letting go of a lot of Christmas "noise." I've come
to realize that I can't control whether people enjoy their gifts
or feel they got enough of them. I'm not responsible for
everything being perfect; whatever I do will be good enough. I'm
dropping some traditions and getting the family to suggest new ones.
I'm asking for help instead of trying to do it all myself. I'll
enjoy the moments and the people I love, one by one, instead of trying
to orchestrate a perfect Christmas. I hereby give myself permission
to have a guilt-free, simple Christmas. You may want to do likewise.
I've come to realize that much of what I remember about my childhood
Christmases is just that, wonderful memories. What made those times
so special was the things we did together, making cookies and trimming
the tree and waiting for Santa to ring the doorbell. That was the main
event during the year when my parents did "kid" things with
us. No wonder I remember those times so fondly.
After nearly forty years of being a mom, and more recently a grandmother
(there are 24 in our blended family now), I realize that my children
remember the simple things too. They don't care, or remember,
the yards of gold ribbon and pine roping hanging from the chandelier
or the prickly, three-foot holly arrangements in the front hall. They
don't care if you have six kinds of cookies and make your own
wrapping paper, they really don't. They just care that you are
together and that they feel loved.
A Gift Suggestion
The best gift you can give yourself
and your family this year is to break the pattern and RELAX. Enjoy Christmas
to the max. Let your children, especially the women in your family,
know that it isn't necessary
to do everything perfectly. It's OK to get creative and experiment
with new traditions. It's OK if the turkey isn't done (that's
why we have microwaves) and its OK if the silver isn't gleaming.
All that is really required for the perfect Christmas is love.
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Attract What Is Good In 2006 - Winter Workshop
In Duxbury
Make
2006 the year when you attract great things into your life? Learn how
to break the patterns that are keeping you from being the person you were
intended to be. Learn to manage your own life by dealing with fear and
loss of personal power. If relationships and personal boundaries are a
problem, you'll get feedback and tools to get on track. This workshop
is geared to the needs of its members.