Christmas Chaos

Our Christmas looks different than I always dreamed it would. I love Christmas, I love traditions, I love giving presents. My kids don’t care much for it. They don’t have an interest or even really an understanding of Christmas. They’re not excited about Santa. They won’t be telling me about that 1 super cool toy they are going to ask Santa for. They can both say the word “Santa” this year, but they don’t get that he’s supposed to be coming down the chimney and bringing them presents. (In fairness, what a bizarre social concept to try and grasp when you struggle with everyday ones.)

On Christmas morning I record them coming down the stairs, and every year they walk past the tree and indicate that they want breakfast. 

I would love for them to feel the same excitement that I felt as a child. The “magic”, if you will. I’d love for them to watch Christmas movies with me. I’d love to see them open a gift that they really want and see the pure joy in their faces. 

There’s several things that I have come to terms with about what I probably won’t experience as a parent, but holidays hit me hard sometimes. So many people ask if the kids are excited for Christmas, and I always have to answer honestly because I’m not a great liar, “not really, they don’t really get it yet.” This often leads to follow up questions which I kind of really hate answering. It’s an innocent question – I ask it too.

Every year I am hopeful that this will be the year that it clicks and the kids finally “get it”. When they don’t, I have a little pity party and ask why I even bother to put in the effort if they just don’t give a shit. I am self-aware enough to know that it is mostly for me – I have things I want to do so that it feels like Christmas to me.

We will do our annual pictures, we will wear our new pajamas from Nanny and Poppy, we will take advantage of the fact that our kids don’t expect presents so we rarely go overboard with our spending. We will enjoy the company of our family and let the kids come and go as they please. We will set out cookies and milk for Santa, even when no one checks the next morning to see if it is gone. As long as the kids aren’t crying or screaming, I count it as a win. Also, we don’t have to do the Elf on the Shelf, and if that isn’t positive, I don’t know what is.

We believe fully in inclusion in our home, so we do tailor our Christmas to fit the kids’ needs. We don’t have a lot of visitors, and most if not all of them come to us. We cook the meals so that the kids can run around the house and take breaks when they need them (because socializing and noises are hard). I decorate only the living room (minimally) to cut down on more visual clutter than we already have. We encourage them to open their presents, but don’t force them when it becomes too overwhelming. We try to keep their routine as close to normal as possible.

And the most important thing we do is reign in our expectations. Expectations will kill you, man.

When I pull in my expectations, I can appreciate that Penny laughed with me while she put ornaments on the tree this year, even if she only did like, 6 – that’s 5 more than ever! I can watch Rory as he discovers the Christmas tree and stares at it with wonder. I can appreciate every little smile I see when the kids greet our visitors at the door because it may be subtle but I know they love the love. I will appreciate every little scrap of paper the kids take off of a present because oftentimes they won’t even do that. 

And I will hopefully appreciate that although Christmas doesn’t look like what I remember and what I expected, I will appreciate the time that I get to spend with my favourite little people because all they ever want at any minute of any day, is just cuddles and kisses (with a side of ice cream and lucky charms, of course.)