A New Year and the Swirling Vortex of Holiday Terror

I doubt I'm the only parent (or person, for that matter) whose head begins to start spinning sometime around Halloween, and whose head doesn't clear until sometime after the new year has begun.  I have long referred to this phenomenon as "the swirling vortex of holiday terror," and though I've worked hard to stop it from engulfing me in its madness, I have been mostly unsuccessful - especially since the birth of my children.

My son had to make this violent cookie.  Boys.

I try to be "present" as the season starts - to appreciate the round of traditions that begin with a Thanksgiving up north, tree-decorating at my mother-in-law's and the tree-lighting in Cedarburg, where I've helped kids write letters to Santa for a decade.  I'd likely be more successful if my daughter's birthday didn't fall smack dab in the midst of all of that - forcing us to combine special holiday moments with a birthday celebration, while simultaneously trying to give them both the measure of attention they deserve.

Then we're on to finding and decorating our tree, the rounds of cookie baking with family and friends, a cookie exchange, the Nutcracker Ballet and our own Solstice tradition, in which we put food out for the "snow angels" (aka, critters) and hang a special lantern to light up the longest night of the year.

The Solstice lantern

All the while, trying to make time to watch the special Christmas movies (such as Charlie Brown Christmas and Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas), listen to the Christmas music and to read the special Christmas books (the titles of which seem to grow each year, but include The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Carl's Christmas, The Gift of Nothing, Great Joy and Snowmen at Christmas) together next to our tree.  

When Christmas arrives, it's an absolute blur of gatherings and gifts; completely lacking in sleep, but abounding in stress, as we try to cram in whatever we didn't finish, make Christmas miracles for our children and get to every party on time.  It's overwhelming.

By the time I arrive at my birthday, which falls the day before New Year's Eve, I'm exhausted and often sick, but we're still not done:  there's the annual Epiphany play and, finally, my husband's birthday about a week into January (that's right: 3 out of 4 birthdays in our family fall among the holidays - 5 if you include my dad). And though we have all these traditions to mark the season and holiday, I often get to the end and feel that I somehow missed all of it - especially the quiet traditions.  I always feel that I didn't read the stories enough, listen to the music enough or just simply sat and enjoyed our tree enough.

I think we're just too busy.  I think there's just too much.

I envy my friends who hole up in their house and enjoy a long, quiet Christmas by their fireplace.  I don't have a fireplace, but if I did, it would be where I'd spend my Christmas - reading the books, watching the movies and listening to the music while staring at our tree - snuggled up by the fireplace with my family.  It's my dream Christmas - quiet, peaceful and simple.  

I know, I know - first world problems, right?  I shouldn't complain - many people would be envious of our large family to gather with and all of the traditions we have.  Still, I seek to simplify and scale down in this new year; to focus on what really matters so we aren't so overwhelmed.  I suspect that there are many people on that same path; people who are tired by the frantic pace and too much stuff, and I'm hoping that by relating my journey to you, I can help us all.  So, here's to simplicity in 2014!  Happy New Year, everyone.