Christmas Magic

I didn’t love Thanksgiving this year.

I thought it was going to be fine. Good, even.

I talked it up in my head: “No driving!” “We will all be in our own beds!” “We don’t have to marathon cook!”

And, of course, the: “I can still make it really fun and special!”

So, we paved forward with new menu items and I got the kids a couple small gifts to help kick off the Holiday season like Christmas PJ’s, a Gingerbread House kit, and an Advent calendar. My mom sent ornaments to open on Thanksgiving day, a tradition carried on from my own childhood.

The big day came and we got to cooking and setting the table. The kids knew there was something to be excited about, especially with wrapped presents on the table; but, as the day wore on, there was no where for that excited energy to go.

There weren’t visiting cousins or Aunts and Uncle’s to talk and play with. No grandparents. Just us. Just like any other day.

And, they were all up in my business.

“What’s in the box?”

“Can we open the presents?”

And, just the normal, everyday toddler needs for entertainment.

Finally at 3:30 I caved. I made a cheese board and Adam opened some champagne and I said they could open the presents.

PJ’s. Boring.

A Gingerbread House… that we are not going to do right now.

An advent calendar… that we can’t open until Tuesday.

And, two very perfect– a unicorn and Baby Yoda– but, very glass ornaments. For my toddlers.

As I shot out, “Be careful’s!” And “Be gentle’s!” Adam said, “Way to go. A bunch of gifts they can’t play with.”

You could have fried a turkey with the look I gave him.

By the time dinner rolled around, I made boxed mac and cheese for the kids and set them in front of Frozen while Adam and I went into the dining room on our own. I was tired and didn’t want to fight about keeping booties in seats or green beans.

In the end, it was fine… I guess. Definitely not great.

But, it all got me thinking about our plans for Christmas.

The knee jerk reaction for me is, “How can I still make this year special? How can I make sure we make some great memories? I should do something new/bigger/better this year to make sure it’s still magical.”

I am not alone in this. There is so much loss this year, especially for our kids and our family is not the only ones keeping the crowd small. I have seen countless requests from women my age on social media for ideas to make the Holiday’s fun and special this year. I can get behind this. I like when social media is used as a tool for good. For learning and community. And, truthfully, some of the ideas are great.

But, I have also seen this quote making its rounds:

“As a grown-up I’ve learned that all the ‘Christmas Magic’ I felt as a kid was really a mom and dad who loved me so much.”

I can’t get behind this.

There is sweet intent in this attempt to show appreciation to our parents and that is great. And, deserved. But, as millennial women, half of us are people pleasers and about 95% of us tie our self worth to what we do. (These stats are just my own guess-tamate… but, they feel right.)

Feeding us a line about parents doing things to make sure there is magic at Christmas equates parental love? Our high achieving self kicks it in high gear like there is a yearbook deadline, lacrosse tryouts and SAT II’s all in the same week.

Sidebar: Thinking back, we literally did have weeks like that. Except, I need to throw in the inevitable chem quiz, 5 paragraph essay due Thursday, boyfriend impressing and girl drama as well. Yikes.

Maybe those days were the perfect training ground for reaching a little more as adults. High performing in work and in our homes. Going big for our own weddings and friends showers. Reaching for the best for our kids nursery, toddler birthday parties and even just with coordinated family Halloween costumes. And, for any Christmas, but especially this one.

And, maybe you love this. Maybe going above and beyond, being “extra” or crafty or a magical memory maker on par with a cruise director is your thing.

I have moments like this and I do–sometimes– think these things are fun.

But, it’s taken a lot of work to recognize that doing these things doesn’t make me more worthy, lovable, or chic and doesn’t measure my love for others. And, if this Covid Season has taught me anything it is that even in sadness and with calendars stripped down and extras taken away, magic still shows up.

I found it in the green that finally came in the spring, brighter than it had ever seemed before. In the laughter Savannah’s belly flops brought to us all at the lake. In the pure happiness and big giggles a hose and popsicle brought Theo all summer. Magic is always found on our patio and this year, with a special thanks to folklore, it was no exception. And, on many days, I found so much magic in staring at the clouds wondering, “Are they always like this and because things are slower I am just now noticing?”

After Thanksgiving I really took stock of how I wanted to spend the season. Overbooked and extra didn’t seem to fit the bill this year. Even as the decorations came out, I found myself leaving much of it in the basement. I explained my feelings on it to Adam with a: “This year, I need a little less Holly Jolly and a little more Silent Night.”

It sounded like a plea for kids to sleep better, which isn’t entirely off base. And, Santa, if you are reading, I wouldn’t hate it.

But, it was a mood. A mantra. A new way of being.

And, so far, it’s been really nice. Keeping it simple with a nearly empty calendar, no Elf on the Shelf and a whole lot less glitz and glitter.

I don’t want to overwhelm myself or my kids with manufactured magic this season. I don’t want to work to prove my love or try to find it in my toddlers or people on social media with those things either. At Christmas or ever.

I want see the magic that just shows up because I know enough now to know it will.

Especially at Christmas.

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