Be prepared for random, though hopefully not intelligible, spewing.
We decided to do Christmas cards this year. It’s the first time we’ve actually sent them out traditional style. Last year we e-mailed an update. I’ve always gawked at the price and in my self-centeredness, figured that if people wanted an update on us they’d check our blog. But this year I felt differently. Perhaps it’s the fact that we’re spending Christmas alone. That my “old friends” feel especially far this year, but I wanted to let all those people in my life know that I still think of them, that I still love them. I was surprised at how heart warming it was to write out each name and address thinking of the recipients and how they’d blessed our lives. I”m not sure how to articulate it, I was just overwhelmed by how many wonderful people have crossed our lives over the years. My list grew longer and longer as I thought of all the people right here in Seattle, then in Cleveland, then from college, then high school. It was really heartwarming, and a beautiful experience for me.
In response to my last post, I have taken a new tactic with Scotland, instead of preaching the merits of Christlike charity. I’ve made a point of expressing how excited I am for him to open the gifts I got him for Christmas. And you know what- his response has been precisely what I hoped for: “Mom, I’m excited for you to open the gift I got you for Christmas!” Entirely of his own accord he has now gotten gifts for Tom and I- toys that he has placed in boxes and put under the tree. (Tom didn’t get his gift until he used the same tactic- “Scotter, I can’t wait to see how you like the presents I got for you!”) It reminds me of two things. First, Steven Covey’s book about how kids can’t truly give something away until they first feel it is theirs to give. (Scotter doesn’t feel like he can give presents until he’s sure he’s getting some.) And second, a talk from General Conference when the speaker told the story of a horse that couldn’t be broke despite hours of training, until finally the cowboy walked alongside the horse, walked with the horse, instead of pulling the horse along. Sometimes I’m successful, usually I’m not. Like the other day when I’d made rolls for the neighbors. They were hot out of the oven and it timed out such that Anders was down for a nap- Tom was home asleep, and I thought Scotter and I could sneak out quick and take them to the neighbors on either side of us while they both slept. Despite my cheerful encouraging Scotland didn’t want to go. But I wanted him to have the experience of giving to his neighbors- spreading the Christmas cheer. In the end I forced him. I’m always battling between forcing your kids to do things that will benefit them, and turning down experiences and opportunities for growth in order to keep the peace. (It’s especially difficult when I want to do something, like go caroling, and the boys don’t want to. But they can’t stay home alone. So I have no choice.)
I was reminded from the joy school curriculum about something my mom did growing up, and decided to follow suit. I made a simple “manger” out of a cardboard box and some TP rolls and cut strips of yellow paper for straw. Whenever we see someone do something like Christ we put a piece of straw in the manger. We keep it on the dining room table, and each meal we share things we saw others do that was Christlike. Usually I mention some things I saw Scotland do, and he mentions something he saw his imaginary friends do. “I saw Bambi help this lady carry a heavy load!” Though now that we’re on our third week of it Scotland’s ability to recognize service has increased. I have been amazed by how this simple daily act has improved his behavior. He was down right angelic the first week we did it, and his behavior has only waned as our attention to the manger has waned. It’s been a powerful study in positive reinforcement. It’s also been an excellent learning experience for me- in learning to focus on all the wonderful things Scotland is doing, instead of fixating on the few frustrating things he does.
We’re celebrating a week late- because Tom is working straight until New Year’s eve. Because I so often feel the Christmas season is rushed and I don’t have the time to do all the things I want, we started it off before December even started, and while it has certainly made for a less stressful season- and would have been perfect if we were celebrating this Thursday , it’s felt rather long with our week extension. We’re are certainly cultivating some impressive delayed gratification in our children!
Scotland has LOVED the advent calendar this year. Last year I made one that consists of 25 small linen bags. We fill them with slips of paper suggesting a daily Christmas activity. It’s helped the season feel special, and because Scotland can read it hasn’t been stressful because if the activity doesn’t end up fitting our day’s plan I can just switch it up that morning!
I’m always fascinated by the psychological repercussions of allowing oneself to consider one’s “wants.” It’s challenging at first, a slow trickle of ideas, and then, like a firehose, shocking in its abundance. I wonder, is it healthy? Better to never entertain the thought, or let them out- free to fly away?
I feel very torn about how much to give our children at Christmas. Tom won out this year and our tree is flooded with Amazon boxes. But part of me doesn’t approve. Part of me wishes we would have purchased less. Kept things simpler, focused elsewhere. And part of me can’t wait to see their eyes light up with each additional gift.
My entire family is congregating for Christmas, except me. Most of the time I’m okay with it. It was my choice. But then there are those moments when my eyes well with tears and I feel deep regret. How could I have turned down an opportunity to be with those I love best? I guess it’s then that I have to remember why I made my original choice, and be true to my desire to focus on creating beautiful sacred moments with my own little family.