Even Scrooge and The Grinch Stopped Complaining

            Ah, it’s November and you know what that means! The complaints are already beginning to trickle in. Everyone seems to love the holidays but hate everything about them. They hate the shopping, the Christmas tunes while shopping, the traveling, the decorating, feeling forced to say “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”… The list is as long as Santa’s. ‘Tis the season for cheer and goodwill…but only from a distance, please.

            There are some years when the Christmas spirit hits me right between the eyes. I spend weekends baking batches of homemade fudge for the neighbors, I ransack Michael’s for new decorations, and I happily volunteer at my son’s school holiday events. Other years the Christmas spirit knocks me upside the head. Those years I daydream of using my Christmas ribbon to strangle the ultra-organized PTA members who scheduled those extra school events. Instead, I volunteer less, buy a Costco bag of chocolates for my neighbors, and only bring up one container of decorations from the basement. So sometimes people get my Suzie Homemaker Christmas and sometimes they get my half-assed version. But at least that half is happy and not too stressed to appreciate the holidays. And I’m not complaining.

            The reason I can exempt myself from the list of holiday haters is because I finally let go of everyone’s expectations for the perfect holiday, most importantly my own. Through trial and error and some self-reflection (and possibly old age), I’ve learned a couple of things.    

            One, traditions can be stifling. I used to be overly concerned about developing traditions for my family until I realized the only tradition I was keeping was the one of putting too much pressure on myself. I was trying to create Norman Rockwell experiences instead of figuring out what we really enjoyed doing and what we really didn't. Traditions are more meaningful when they happen naturally over time, not when you feel obligated to do exactly what your parents did or what your family expects of you or even what you’ve done the year before. Life is fluid, so why shouldn’t holidays be?

            Do what you feel like doing this year and scrap the other stuff. I think I speak for everybody when I say I don’t want a gift from you if it drains you to buy it - financially, physically, or emotionally. If we care enough about each other to want to exchange gifts then we should care enough to want each other to be happy and unburdened, especially around the holidays. Do something fun together instead. Take each other out for a decadent dessert or go ice-skating or sledding. Pack all your nieces and nephews in the car after dark and find one of those giant light displays to drive through. Forget the extensive gift list and spend your weekends doing festive activities instead of trudging through crowded malls. (Unless, like me, you love the malls at Christmas time, then shop ‘till you drop!) If you enjoy baking, take the extra time to do it. If you find it a hassle, go to a bakery or candy shop and buy some goodies. I’d rather fall short at being the Queen of Christmas than subject others to Ms. Crabby Christmas.

            Maybe it’s easier for me because I don’t have the guilt or martyr complex that some other people may suffer from. So making those kinds of compromises has been easier to reconcile than another realization I finally came to. I think everyone can agree, holidays are supposed to be about family. Lots of family. In all the Christmas movies, in all the Thanksgiving snapshots, even in my own childhood memories, there was lots of family. So even after I grew up and left our nuclear family of eight, plus a host of local cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, I couldn’t help but feel my new family of three wouldn’t cut it for the holidays. How can it really feel like Thanksgiving or Christmas with just the three of us?

            I came to the slow realization that as a carefree child, I adored that happy chaos. As an adult, I really like the simplicity and tranquility that my cozy little family offers. When we finally ventured to have a Thanksgiving and Christmas by ourselves, we found that the holiday was just as special with just the three of us as it was with a multitude of beloved family members.

            So now our only holiday tradition is the one where we allow ourselves to do whatever we want each year. Taking stock of our present mood and circumstances is our gift to each other and to ourselves. In past years, we’ve traveled to spend wonderful Thanksgivings at my in-laws and my cousin’s homes, as well as hosting friends in our own home. There were other times when we’ve preferred a more subdued, easy peasy Thanksgiving at our favorite restaurant. Last year we spent a terrifically boisterous Thanksgiving in Florida with my husband’s family. This year, we feel like nesting at home and getting to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade all the way to the end. We do miss whichever family members we’re not with, but it's also fun to spend part of the day reminiscing about past feasts.

            Christmas, on the other hand, has become our treasured alone time. The only expectation is that Santa will arrive at midnight. With all the hubbub leading up to it, we prefer to safeguard a leisurely Christmas day. One where my son can stay in his pajamas all day and play with his newly unwrapped toys; where my husband can eat as much crumb cake as he likes because Christmas dinner is whatever time we want it to be; where we can play in the snow if there is any, then lounge by the fire the rest of the day and watch a marathon of Christmas movies. Our lazy Christmas has evolved naturally to become tradition. Who knew?

            I’m not saying the way we spend our holidays is the way everyone should do it. In fact, I’m saying just the opposite. Celebrate the season in the way that will make YOU happy. Discover what you really enjoy about this time of year and spend the most time doing that. Treat yourself to at least one really fun outing in December to infuse some Christmas spirit. And if you find yourself complaining, try skipping whatever it is you’re complaining about. Just this year, just to see if the world ends if you don’t make four pies from scratch or mail 75 Christmas cards or show up at your Aunt Ida’s. I bet my neighbors don’t even remember what I gave them for the holidays last year, but I remember, because I enjoyed making all their treats. That enjoyment - or conversely annoyance had that been the case - is a part of my holiday memories, not theirs. This Thanksgiving and Christmas, let’s give ourselves a holiday from our own Quixotic expectations and learn to really appreciate what the season offers. Radiating joy in the season meant for it is the best gift we can give each other.