It’s the “So what’s your major” and “Where are you from” kind of stuff I got as a college freshman. It’s the seasonal small talk we run to after we’ve covered the weird weather. Mostly among women. Come to think of it, I can’t imagine a man ever reaching for such a cliche. I mused to my 13 year-old daughter on our way to their program last night, What is everyone talking about, do you suppose, when they ask me if I’m ready for Christmas? I bulleted some ideas and she just said, “Yeah, all of that.” I just wonder if anyone ever says yes. Is it some kind of badge of honor to be more behind than everyone else? And what kind of checklists are we making anyway that set us up for failure?
I’ll admit it, I’m in my sweats. Glorious comfort clothing. Perfect for an entire day at home. My Christmas gift to myself. I texted five different girlfriends to see if we could get together today to either walk or just visit. I toyed with the idea of having another luncheon. I planned on going to the temple. For some reason, this is where I am. Happily, happily in the middle of a Bed and Breakfast transformation! I’ve got laundry going, bread is cooling beside the sugar cookies, homemade potpourri’s on the stove, the tunes are swinging me, the dishwasher’s humming along, and the dog just barely woke up. The house is basically thrashed. And I LOVE it! Because our house makes the best before and after—noticeable to even the kids. I know.
So am I ready for Christmas? I’m so literal, I never know what exactly people are referencing, which is why I probed Avery. Like for Christmas morning? Christmas dinner? Generally? Is this just to get the conversation going so we can compare woes? But I think about it.
Shopping… I guess I have a short list. We dropped off Todd’s parents’ gifts in July. (But I forgot her birthday gift for her July birthday. Lovely.) Todd’s siblings decided on private donations to an organization we love, perfect. We got my married sister and her family a family gift, delivered way back. That leaves buying for my husband, the kids, then my mom and sister who join us tonight. (I will whole-heartedly admit that stockings—along with Easter baskets—tickle me till the very day—they are possibly the hardest parts of these entire spiritual holidays, nice.) That’s the whole list. You know me by now, I don’t do neighbor gifts. Or friend gifts. I occasionally will make/buy something for the ladies I visit each month, but really, what would happen if I didn’t? We’d still be friends. I did something tiny for the teachers back at Thanksgiving. I’m just not able to do more. It would drive me nuts. I’m not Wonder Woman, not even her side-kick. I’m just running on 24 hours a day like you. Minus 8-9.5 because I need so much sleep.
I got a great idea from another friend years ago. She and her family members each get to choose one family to do something for—plates of cookies or stuffed santa underwear (probably one of my favorite neighbor gifts ever)—and they deliver treats (that means 6 total) for family night. Perfect! So we’ve followed suit. Random, very random. Sometimes it’s a new family, maybe someone we just like, or maybe someone we think could use a little something. Not everyone. Not even close. Anyway, that’s the extent of my gift-giving.
I’m still sitting beside a box of the rest of my Christmas letters that need to be addressed and mailed. I don’t know why I hate that task so much. It’s up there with thank you notes. And I know you think I’m lying or at least kidding. I’m not. It’s so tedious to write the same type of thing on 150+ letters and try to sound personal. I hate fake. So I want to convey my love to each personally, but it’s tricky to make it sound as genuine as I feel after doing it so many times and ways. So I skip several days and do a couple. And I’m avoiding the Scottish ones because they require a trip to the post office for over-seas stamps. You know I hate errands. But I love the actual recap of the year, composing our family letter, that’s fun for me, a chore for most.
I guess people might be really asking am I ready for the company and the meals. That’s legit. Ummm… the short answer is how can I be until the day they’re coming? Everyone is still sleeping in beds that will become the company’s beds until that morning. There is no point mopping a floor or vacuuming or even cleaning the oven until the day of. And there is really no one I’ve ever had who truly constitutes company. It’s always been family and friends who come to visit. It would be so hard to be friends with people who are uptight and stiff and who care about that kind of stuff. But you know I’ll be honest with you. I’d love to have it look like I have it all together. Because a house looks so nice when everything is done all at the same time. But how honest or realistic is that? And how long can it last? And who really cares? It’s not. Until the kids come home. No one. So yes, I try to do what I can to earn a Bed and Breakfast designation on my door, I clean and make beds. I actually love this part. I’ve told you before I kind of always wanted to be a hotel maid. It’s fun to make things nice for visitors. It doesn’t last though.
Am I ready for the meals? I just don’t get what the big deal is about Thanksgiving and Easter and Christmas dinners. Does no one cook anymore? We eat everyday. I guess I just see holidays as Sunday dinners with a set menu that doesn’t change much from year to year. So no, that kind of stuff doesn’t stress me out too much. It’s probably more stressful all the other days guests are here because we do a lot of shopping and watch a lot of movies and before long everyone’s wondering where dinner is. So I feel like I have to be out and about as well as on the couch while at the same time snapping my fingers hoping dinner will appear. But they like homemade food, and I like to treat them. Since I am not Super Woman either, I will admit I get a little edgy sometimes. But I’m getting better. As far as food shopping, I kind of hate that any time of the year. At least, like I said, I know what we’re supposed to be having, so that’s nice. And my sister actually loves errands. But I wonder if that’s what people are asking when they ask if I’m ready for Christmas.
I don’t know what else I should be doing and getting ready for. I have a pretty easy life. Of course I have all the normal stuff we all have at this time of year, concerts, school and church responsibilities, decorating, making fun treats and crafts for/with the kids, keeping track of The Elf, updating the gift spread-sheet, gifts for Todd’s co-workers, cookies, craft supplies, and basket contributions to remember, 3-4 parties this Saturday, etc. But that’s to be expected. I have a couple of girlfriends who are crazy busy. But they are in charge of huge fund-raisers and organizations. They are amazing, the real Wonder Women of the world. I can’t imagine how they are making it all happen, they just blow me away. I feel like I’m just stupefied, watching it all happen with my mouth agape, realizing they’ve got it done before it even occurs to me to ask if I can help. I have so much to learn.
Am I ready for Christmas? It seems like a better question should be, Are you feeling it? Aren’t you loving it? Isn’t this fun? Don’t you just love Christmas?! Isn’t this the best time of year?!
I’ve told you before, it took me awhile to wrap myself into the Christmas Spirit this year for some reason. Maybe because Thanksgiving was so late, maybe because it was so warm for a December in Montana, possibly because I don’t have the Hallmark channel. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I do love this time of year, it’s my favorite. I love everything about it (except driving on ice). I love sitting by the fire with my family. Shopping (during off-hours). And with my family to find our perfect Christmas Eve $5 gift for each other. Wrapping gifts. The smells of it all. Remembering the decorations from last year. Wondering what our little elf will think of next. Cuddling with Todd in flannel sheets, talking late into the night. Reading old-fashioned Christmas stories with the kids. The tiny glow of each little light bulb on the front porch and above the cabinets and on the tree. With all the other lights in the house off. Getting little treats and unique creations from friends who have more energy than me. Seeing your pictures waiting for me in the mailbox. Having my mom and sister with me. The yummy foods we indulge in once a year. The feelings of peace and well-being. Of wanting to do more and serve better. Praying to know how.
Some of the best memories have been last year eating cinnamon rolls while Todd read us A Rifle for Christmas* one night by the fire. Last Sunday afternoon when we knew someone was bringing us dinner but knowing we had an hour to spare. We lounged in our church clothes by the fire and I read story after story to the family, no pictures, just words. This past Wednesday night while the rest of the family was gone, Bronwyn and I did one Christmas word-search after another in her new book, side by side. Making cookies and ornaments. Shopping late Monday night and sharing popcorns and slushies in the food court as a family. Listening to beautiful concerts and talented performers, watching my children and my friends’ children looking and doing their best. What’s not to love about this wonderful life?
Because if we’re not enjoying the season along the way, what are we getting ready for? And waiting for? Do any of us really want it to only be about the hour of opening presents? Or a fancy but stressful dinner that only gives you heartburn and a headache? That’s a dumb way to spend a month if you ask me.
I know we only have a few days left. I wonder what would happen if some of the list didn’t get done. If you didn’t do neighbor/firemen/teacher gifts. What if you just surprised them on Valentine’s Day? What if you had them over for dinner on a cold, gray January evening instead? Who’s to say we need to even send cards or make everything from scratch? What we really crave is connection. There are other ways to show we care. I think it’s less about the stuff on our lists and more about the people in our homes and in our lives. I guess I’m just getting older and have less energy and interest in things that don’t really matter. I just don’t have it in me. But what I love are things that give me energy, that do matter, that strengthen relationships, that help us feel closer to one another. And our Savior.
Janet Lee, wife of the late Rex E. Lee, former president of Brigham Young University, remembers an occasion when Sister [Marjorie Pay] Hinckley's optimistic outlook changed her own perspective:
"Several years ago, during the Christmas season, President and Sister Hinckley came to BYU for a musical event. Before the program, there was a buffet dinner, and at one point while the men were away from our table, the women began to talk about the frustrations of getting ready for Christmas. Our conversation focused on the fact that everything about the season was becoming a burden for women. We bear the responsibility of selecting gifts, organizing social events, preparing everyone's favorite food, and making certain that family, guests, and even the less fortunate have a merry Christmas. We felt overwhelmed if not resentful. Sister Hinckley listened patiently, and then without the slightest edge of criticism in her voice said, "I love Christmas. It is the most joyful of all seasons. I love seeing the eyes of little children light up on Christmas morning. I love giving gifts. I love being with my family. We just need to simplify and remember what we are celebrating." After she had spoken, something magical happened. Our attitudes shifted, and we began to talk about the birth of our Savior and the spirit of giving. In the years that have passed since those words were spoken, a burden has been lifted for me during the holidays. As I shop, prepare food, and join with friends and family to celebrate the birth of our Savior, her words nurture and calm me. "I love Christmas," I hear her say, and I let her teach me to relax and enjoy the season."
(Virginia H. Pearce, _Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley_ [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1999].)
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