Each December, I sit down with my notebook and pen and make a list of all the things I'd like to accomplish prior to December 25th. This list is comprised of places I want to visit, like the the big tree downtown, as well as family activities I find special during the holidays including baking Christmas cookies and watching Elf for the 1,057 time. My list making has become as much of a tradition as the things written on it.
Yesterday while I was busy penciling in holiday parties and school commitments on the calendar, I noticed there were very few "white spaces" remaining before Christmas. I looked back and forth from my list to the calendar frantically trying to orchestrate a plan that would allow me to maximize holiday fun while efficiently utilizing every spare moment we have available before Santa Claus makes it to town. Festive? No. Stressful? Very.
As my shoulders started to tense up, I was struck by how my quest to 'create' the perfect holiday experience for my family has squelched the true joy of the season. For example, Matt would rather not go and stand in line at Bass Pro Shop for 1.5 hours to see Santa on a weekday night after working at the shop all day just because the calendar dictates it so. And, surly Matt will lead to short-fuse Stephanie thus bringing out whiny Weston. By the time we reach Santa's lap, we'd rather kick him in the shins than sit and chat. I began thinking what's the worst thing that will happen if I (gasp) abandon the list?
The last time I marched/ran down Broadway was, well, never. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision for Grassy Valley Antiques to join the Fountain City Parade, but some of the sweetest moments are indeed spontaneous. There wasn't much planning involved, no fancy float was constructed ...Although, if we ever do make one, I'd like to build it out of red and green recycled doors. That, as my nephews like to say, would be epic... Still, as our small group made our way down Broadway all decked out in Santa hats and antlers (me) passing out candy to bundled up children I unexpectedly found Christmas. It wasn't during a list-mandated activity, and it didn't have to be deemed a "tradition" to be enjoyed. It just was wonderful because the look in Weston's eyes as he leaned out of the festooned Mustang shouting "Merry Christmas "and handing out candy canes could never be orchestrated.
This year I'm going to try and fly through the holidays without planning the fun. I think we will all have much more of it if we just let it happen.
