The Trial of Christmas

I was in my 20s before I meant anyone who didn’t celebrate Christmas. By then I knew that many of the customs and things we do around the holidays have roots in the pagan celebrations of winter. And, of course, I had known for a while that Jesus wasn’t actually born on December 25. Perhaps I felt a little sorry for the kids in those families who didn’t have the traditions my family enjoyed, although that didn’t stop them from joining in with our celebrations at church or our own home. Now I’m beginning to think the parents of those families were just a whole lot wiser than me…and avoided the headache Christmas can be for parents around the world.

Growing up I remember the excitement around the holidays. I even remember that Grace would get so worked up about it all she would usually have a least one spell of lying in bed with a migraine before it was all over. And I remember my mom once saying how grateful she was that Grace’s birthday was only two weeks after Christmas and it would all be over for the year. Back then I didn’t understand what she meant except that Grace was extra giddy and jumpy, but now I get it. Honestly, I think I am going to have to tie Emry up and put her in box stamped “Do no open until Christmas day” before this is all said and done. I don’t ever remember Christmas being so exhausting…or emotional.

Had Emry not been swinging from one end of the excited-beyond-reason to the other end of the greedy-everything-must-be-special spectrum I don’t believe we would have any trouble with Ethan. His excitement is always spur of the moment, overjoyed with whatever event occurred and then on to the next thing. Emry, though, has not gotten out of the boat of anticipation, often pulling Ethan in wit her, and we still have five more days to go before its all said and done. As far as she is concerned, the holidays mean that every moment of every day should be special, not run-of-the-mill school, chores, play, sleep, eat, survive. We need to be baking cookies, going somewhere, looking for the light up rose she’s longing for, decorating, crafting, shopping (usually for her) and reading special books. All of this equals discontent most days which, combined with the fact that she’s too caught up in everything to nap most afternoons, creates an emotional drama almost every night before bed. Ed has had it with her. I’m exhausted trying to figure out the best way to resolve these issues. And Ethan wanders about ignoring his sister’s emotional highs and lows (which may or may not make him a good husband someday).

All of this on top of trying to keep life normal, not feeling well any day of the week and still trying to make Christmas special has given me a somewhat Scrooge attitude. Most nights I collapse in my chair and can’t wait for Christmas to be over. However, the trial of it all has also brought me to daily remember why we celebrate Christmas to begin with, a reminder I then try to share with Emry and Ethan often during these days. Christmas is not about us, or gifts, or cookies, or all things special. It is about Jesus. Our Savior. The Prince of Peace.