'Tis the Season
Thursday, 22 December 2022
Well, the holidays are upon us, and this post has nothing at all to do with editing.
If you’re like me, you’ve been halfheartedly preparing for the season for a few months, only to be surprised when you find yourself in the middle of December, the holidays nipping at your heels like Corgis following you up the stairs.
In our house, we celebrate Chrismukkah—a unique conglomeration that allows us to observe the magic of Christmas and the miracle of light. I love our distinctive traditions, even as each year I curse myself for signing up for such madness. Because it is madness. Utter and complete pandemonium.
For those of you who don’t know, Hanukkah is a lunar holiday, which means the dates shift every year. This year, Hanukkah began at sundown on December 18th, with the last night falling on the 25th of December. There are years when Hanukkah begins much sooner (the earliest in recent memory was in 2013, when it started on Thanksgiving), and years when it begins a little later (in 2024, Hanukkah will start at sundown on Christmas).
With the two holidays so close together, I have to keep track of eight gifts each for both of my children and my husband, plus pajamas for Christmas Eve (totally not doing it this year), Christmas gifts from me, Christmas gifts from Santa, and thanks to a whole lotta COVID guilt, the infamously despised elf on the dang shelf (her name is Tinsel, and I’m vastly disappointed in myself for welcoming her into my home). Then there are Hanukkah gifts for my mom and brother, a gift for my dad, and Christmas gifts for my husband’s whole family. It’s exhausting. It’s expensive. It’s ludicrous.
Every year, I say I am going to start earlier. I’m going to do a better job of keeping track of gifts and getting them wrapped—basically, I lie to myself. Every year, I say I’m going to avoid the commercialism of it all, that I will focus more on experiences than things. More lies. I get distracted by the pretty and the shiny and the nifty. I buy it all, then judge myself for being so weak.
Love and traditions and family are what make the holiday season so wonderful, and those things bring me great joy. But my self-flagellation over not exceeding my own expectations takes away from that joy.
I began writing this without knowing where it was going. Now that I’ve nearly finished, I think I’ve figured it out. I hope to do a better job of keeping up with everything, and I want to be stronger in the face of consumerism. But mostly, I wish to be more forgiving when I inevitably fall short of the impossibly high standard to which I hold myself and take the time to fully enjoy every moment with the people I love.
Happy holidays to all of you. I hope this season brings you joy, love, and laughter. Those are the important things; so let the rest of it go.