A friend of mine gave birth to her first child this spring. With every holiday that has happened since and while living through a pandemic, she has mourned the loss of some of her and her baby’s “firsts.” First summer vacation, first 4th of July parade, first trick-or-treat, and first trip to the pumpkin patch were all taken away. But all of these firsts and the desire to do them are based on expectations that many parents place on themselves to create the perfect memory with and for their children.
I’m not discounting the frustration of feeling restricted and unable to do our usual activities, yet I don’t want my friend or any parent to place all of their joy in what they think they should be doing, especially around the holidays. I promise you that no matter how you celebrate or how much you plan, the memories will make themselves. Often the best-made plans go awry, and that is part of the magic.
It can be so easy to get caught up in capturing all of what we believe to be the special moments around the holidays, but the best memories are often the ones not caught on camera. They’re not always created in baking, crafting, or photo shoots. Sometimes the details can’t even be agreed on, but the feeling of joy, togetherness, and sometimes utter ridiculousness can’t be taken away.
Take the scene in A Christmas Story when the Bumpus hounds eat the Christmas turkey. That's not Pinterest-worthy, but Ralphie and his family have one of the most memorable and best Christmases ever while being introduced to Chinese duck. The organic moments of trees falling over, kids puking on Christmas Eve, or pizza on Thanksgiving are what can make the special days special. Because when the ornaments are reestablished, the fever lifts, and there isn’t any kitchen cleanup, life feels … better.
Traditions are often born out of an accident and not from a fancy blog post or vision board. Eleven years ago, I made an impromptu holiday scavenger hunt for my then 5-year-old niece. It was mid-December, and I was supposed to pick her up from school for the afternoon. I had been out doing some Christmas shopping and decided to gather 10 different craft items with some candy thrown in so I could hide them around the house for her to find.
I came home and wrote out clues and hid the gifts. She had a blast, and every year since we have done this. Her younger sister joined the mix a couple of years later, and I have added three kids of my own to the mix. This year I intend to drop off a box of things for my nieces’ mom to hide so we can still have our hunt, even if done virtually. It’s not ideal and not the way any of us want to have our annual holiday scavenger hunt, but I intend to make it memorable even if it’s a disaster. Everything’s funny later, right?
Some people go all-in with decorating for the holiday season and like the look of Pottery Barn style décor. Some of us don’t like the clutter and dread getting the bins out of the attic. That someone is me. I prefer a "less is more" approach to decorating for the holidays, and my favorite Thanksgiving decorations are the laminated 8-by-11 paper with each kid's handprint-turned-turkey on it.
Each of my three kids made one in preschool, and we use them each year as placemats. When they made them, I thought they were sweet, but now several years later I trace the messiness of their lines as they tried to trace their chubby fingers. I didn’t know it at the time, but the memory of their littleness now is so much more important than trying to bottle it back then.
The holidays are already kind of hard for me, and social media doesn’t help. I often compare what I want or what I am doing with my kids with what others are doing. Everyone seems happier or more engaged in the memory-making process. I view this process differently now because I have learned to let go of expectations and follow my kids’ leads on how they want to celebrate.
Festive usually looks like wearing a Santa hat while enjoying extra screen time and sugar cookies. Yes, they love the lights and Santa and the tradition of cutting down our Christmas tree, but if Christmas really is about the kids, then let the kids in on the creation of the joy. I promise you will cherish those paper ornaments your kids string on the tree to make it prettier.
And holidays aside, sometimes the best way to make memories is to simply try new experiences instead of forcing yourself to live up to expectations that can’t ever define the organic nature of spending time with your kids. A few weeks ago, my oldest asked if we could go to Ben & Jerry’s to try our luck with the Vermonster. It’s made up of 20 scoops of ice cream with brownie and cookie chunks, toppings, and sauces. It’s gluttony. We ate a little more than half of the bucket, and for a moment I had a fleeting feeling that we were throwing away money with the uneaten ice cream.
But then the kids were bragging about how big the bucket was and how much we actually got through. Money can’t buy that kind of enthusiasm.
When you stop trying so hard, you tend to enjoy the holidays and all of the “firsts” more. You also realize you aren’t missing out on memories; you are actually very active in making them.
