Streamlining Christmas: Connection not Perfection

A scenic wall calendar

from three decades ago,

pulled from the bottom of a drawer

shows December’s squares

especially crammed with tiny scrawls

about kids’ play rehearsals

and notes to bring cookies to class

and white elephant gifts to parties.

I remember how hard I’d tried.

“Everything perfect” meant

everything from scratch,

fresh, not artificial –

real tastes and smells,

the sounds of music,

merry twinkle lights

and serene candle glow.

Take, for instance,

The Stringing of the Popcorn

(and of course, I saw your popcorn

and raised you a cranberry!)

Despite my waxing eloquent about

white for snow and red for love,

the tradition resulted in

more popcorn in tummies

and littering the carpet than on

the single strand between them

if I was lucky.

More than one December

I staged my own little

Mommy meltdown,

screeching: Why, Why

was I doing this alone –

this festive family fun

that we would remember

fondly for years to come!?

Kids and husband would stare

in alarm, but no one

jumped up to help.

(They were weary, too.)

Hubby’s helpful suggestion

to leave the tree half dressed

felt like taking a family portrait

next to a topless aunt.

I gaped at him in disbelief

and stormed to the bedroom

with my popcorn to perform

my martyr’s duty and sulk.

But I learned my lesson

and over the years

trimmed and revised

even to the point,

one winter, of proving that

you really can find

anything online, including

strings of plastic popcorn

and cranberries to adorn

our artificial tree,

which would later stand

in the garage, fully adorned

and ensconced in a bag,

patiently awaiting next year.

But now, all these years later,

after several Christmases

of makeshift vacation rentals

for the convenience of

grown children with lives

of their own in far cities,

the kids have asked

to come home.

So I’m decorating

the house up right,

inside and out,

with an extra tree

in the front window

to say welcome,

welcome home, my darlings.

This house has been

far too quiet, too sedate,

too routine without you.

They’re requesting

favorite foods and games,

but you know, what

thumped my heart

was when my daughter

asked to string the

red and white garland

for the family

Christmas tree.

This year, the tree

will still be fake

but the cranberry love

will be oh-so real.

December 2025

Oh, the wonders of plastic popcorn and cranberries!

It's amazing how hard I made it on myself when my kids were young! I was so well intentioned, so determined to be the perfect mom, to provide the perfect Christmas, to participate in every activity, to buy or make all the perfect gifts (back in the day when you actually had to go to stores to buy things!), to take the family holiday photo, write a holiday update letter, print it onto Christmas stationery, personally sign and write a little note on each of the dozens of Christmas cards to be stamped, sealed and mailed . . . OMG, it makes me tired just to remember it. No wonder I had my little meltdown every year.

These days, Christmas is much more low-keyed, thank goodness. And I'm sorry-not-sorry about the artificial tree and plastic popcorn that I used to feel so superior for avoiding. Now I embrace it -- including my brilliant hack (Are you taking notes?) of removing only the breakable ornaments from the tree after the season is over, covering the whole thing with a tree cover that I taped together myself from large trash bags, and, with my husband's help, toting it out to the garage where it stands, patiently waiting to reverse the process next year. Connection with the people I love is the important thing. If my effort to make the holidays "perfect" causes so much stress and exhaustion that I end up melting down because people aren't joining me in my neurosis as much as I'd like, well then, what's the point?!

Silent night. Holy night.

All is calm. All is bright.

Now, that's perfection.