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When December first finally rears its ugly head on my calendar, my body reacts. It tenses up, my eyes bulge out and my skin starts to crawl. My brain has a hard enough time wrapping its head around the just completed activities of November, the fifty thousand words of Nano written, lazy Thanksgiving festivities attended, turkey eaten and the lighting of what seems like gazillions of twinkly, Plaza lights. Yet there it is-December- staring at me hard, taunting me, and daring me to step in to its chaos.
It wins. Every. Single. Time.
A constant barrage of parties, choir concerts and a flurry of extra scout activities take over my family’s life. If the square on the calendar has a number on it, it is guaranteed there is a place to go, people to see or something to buy. My car racks up extra miles and God forbid, if it snows, traction control is tested, because sadly, not everyone cancels Christmas time festivities because of a school’s scheduled snow closing.
Then there is shopping. Lots and lots of shopping-and I always wait to do mine until the very last minute. My mind knows that there are eleven months before December that I can finish my Christmas shopping, but my procrastination skills shine and I can be found the Friday before the big day, picking out gifts for the kids, buying last minute gift cards for those hard-to-shop-for-people. I sneak wrapping paper on those gifts late at night, door closed tight, glass of wine in one hand, scissors in another, tape hanging off my arms, ready to push the gifts under the bed in case a wandering child enters the room.
I grumble at the long drives to see Christmas lights, but my heart softens as I steal glimpses at the manger scenes that dot the landscapes and my eyes start to twinkle when I sit in the glow of those simple, beautiful icicle lights that line the roofs of so many houses. It almost makes me want to decorate my house. Almost-but the idea of dragging the ladder out of the shed, setting it up against the house and actually climbing up it-well, the sanity returns quickly and I just sulkily drive and grumble at the neighborhood lights.
When December seems to have finally taken its final toll on me, and the chaos is more than I think I can take, the unthinkable occurs. Someone gets sick. Then it gets worse, another someone, because when you have four or five people squished into the confines of four walls during the cold of December, it is hard not to share. The sickness of the year, dependent on whatever germ is being harbored in their classrooms, changes every year-one year a roaring stomach bug, another the screaming pain of strep, others, the endless dripping of runny noses.
Today, as I write this, I am home for a sick day, because, this year they shared with me. A sickly child lies on the couch across from me, keeping me company. As much as I hate to be sick, hate that my kids have to be sick, I am relishing the sitting and doing nothing. The leisure of getting up when I want, eating chicken noodle soup and letting the house go for a day or so, settles my soul. Snuggling with my littlest one, all eighty pounds of him, jogs my brain into remembering that as busy as December is-most of it is centered on my family.
The endless parties are mostly family-centered activities, scouts, and church or classroom parties. Choir concerts with excited kids, making my chest fill with pride. Volunteer activities that we complete together are lessons in helping others and philanthropy. Shopping, for the kids, because even though we celebrate the birth of our Savior Christmas morning, I still relish the joy in their eyes when they open those small tokens of my love that I thoughtfully bought them during those busy December days. They don’t care that I wait until two days before Christmas, and no matter how grand or lame the gifts, their hugs soften my sometimes hardened heart.
If history continues to repeat itself, then December will continue to be chaotic, my body will tense up and my skin will crawl. I will hold on to the spirit of what I believe the holiday is, take my quiet when I can get it and capture the joy in my kids eyes and treasure it in my heart, making the chaos of December lose. Every. Single. Time.
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