Holiday overload
This is an ode to the parent who bears the weight of the mental load. Who plans the meals, registers for the activities, and updates the family calendar. Who reads (most of) the school emails, and the class WhatsApp, and the extracurricular activity app(s). Who coordinates the afterschool care, the babysitters, and the social calendar.
I’ve gotten pretty good and estimating just how many balls I can keep up in the air at a time. That’s not to say I don’t drop one or two every now and then, because true balance is a fantasy, but I continue to work on respecting my limits. Just because I could take on something else, doesn’t mean I have to. And for most of the year that philosophy keeps me sane, or at least prevents me from running away to an isolated commune. There are two weeks out of the year, however that could care less about my limits. And honestly, it’s a miracle that any of us mental load heavy lifters survive.
Every year I start the holiday season excited for the decorations, music, and general levity. I swear that this year I am going to get a head start on the shopping, decorating and cards. But there is no amount of advanced effort that can prepare for the gauntlet that is the two weeks before Christmas.
Between the school concerts, in-class volunteer “opportunities” and donation drives, I am trying to create and facilitate the holiday traditions that my children will remember fondly when they are older. This is of course all on top of the regularly scheduled programming. You know like laundry and the job that actually pays you. Heaven forbid anyone also be grieving because that adds a whole other flavor to this spicy holiday mix.
I remember the first time I hosted Christmas after Jackson was born and lamenting to my mom how much effort Christmas took to create. “No kidding.” She said. And I saw validation in her eyes. Perhaps for the first time, it was more than the sparkling results of her holiday magic that was appreciated. Now the amount of effort, time, and mental head space that making the magic required had also been acknowledged.
So, this holiday season I want you to know that you are not alone in feeling overstimulated by every passing touch. You are not alone in the sound of your name sending a shiver of dread down your spine (what could they possibly need now?). I see you and all your efforts, even if few others do. And as we head into the final turn, I’m cheering you on. You’ve got this.
Happy holidays everyone. Amidst all the emotions and chaos I hope you find moments to take a breath and soak in a little of your own magic while appreciating some created by others.
As we close out the year, I want to thank you all for continuing to inspire my magic.
An inchstone at a time,
Kelly
Image description: Jackson in a yellow hooded sweatshirt and black sweatpants leaning on his leg and smiling at the camera. Anessa is standing in a purple tie-dye winter coat, with two Christmas bows in her hair. A strawberry sticker is covering her face. Between them, sitting in a small house, is Santa Claus surrounded by various holiday decor.
