The fear of a bad Christmas; or, not another “the real gift isn’t under the tree” post

IMG_2371.jpgAround this time of year I tend to catch myself acting weird, and realize in astonishment (every year!) that I’m feeling some low-level anxiety about Christmas. Consistently and inexplicably, I worry that The Kids Will Not Have A Good Christmas.

Where does this come from? Why does it not collapse under the weight of its own complete improbability? I mean really, what kid ends a morning of opening gifts and says, “that was the worst”? OK, I realize this is a hugely privileged statement; obviously families that struggle with abuse, poverty, food/housing insecurity can definitely have a terrible holiday season. But that’s not the situation for my kids, so why do I keep telling myself the story that Christmas is a time that I’m in danger of displeasing them? I don’t seem to worry about this at breakfast on Jan 11, for example.

Giving gifts is weird. When you give someone something, you make an anticipatory decision about what they want or what they might enjoy. It’s a strange kind of defining action, a test of the gift giver’s knowledge of the gift getter. To excel (because I love to excel in all things), you have to go deeper than what the person *says* she wants, into the depth of her unexpressed desires. I get it, it shows connection and intimacy. It’s also an exercise in deep vulnerability. “I think I found a material object that will please you,” says the wrapped package. “Let’s see how right I am.”

So yeah, the holidays — if you celebrate them with a raft of material-gift-giving like I tend to — is a vulnerable time, with multiple chances to love your loved ones in the wrong way, or with the wrong thing. (Whose idea was this, anyway?) I want it to be fun and relaxed and exciting and fulfilling. But at the same time, I carry all these expectations and fears and they make it hard to do the fun stuff because my hands are already pretty full. Also, dread makes me hungry so my hands are also full of cookies, argh.

I hope this year (and every year) that I can put down the fear of failure long enough to embrace the vulnerability and accept the chaos. I hope you can too.

Baxter, on Pokemon world

​​Baxter has never seen any Pokemon anything — show or Go — but he’s been picking up some of the mythology via oral tradition, at day camp this summer. And now he’s running with it. As the story goes, when it’s night in our land, it’s daytime in Pokemon world, and so Baxter goes and visits there while I’m sleeping — has his own house there and everything! The house has no heat, though, which is why he’s cold and wrapped up in a blanket. The story continues in this video: 

Tree deck!

Tom’s been working on building the kids a tree-related structure (we don’t have any trees that would support an actual tree house). Amelia has been his helper. Witness the half-done result: the tree deck! 


Eventually it will have a ladder and railings and other fun accoutrements. Yay, we’ve been wanting to do this since we moved into the house, so it feels great to have made a start. 🙂