Saturday Morning Dispatch No.5
This is about the time in December when I start freaking out about how much there is to get done, and how much sugar my kids have eaten in the last two weeks, and I’m probably giving them nuggets for dinner again, and I still haven’t figured out how to get the Sonos to play the one Christmas album I want to hear (see below), and I have an ongoing hangover from Wisconsin Old Fashioneds. So today’s newsletter is for me as much as it is for you: a reminder to find something in your day that’s good enough, to be thankful for it, and to calm the fluff down.
Notes from a recovering perfectionist.
One summer, before we were married, Ryan and I went to my family’s cabin in Montana with some friends, one of whom is pretty artsy and had brought some canvases and paint with him. Ryan, who is, well, not artsy, borrowed a canvas and paints, and started working on a landscape. I was surprised, and I must have expressed as much, and Ryan said, “You don't have to be good at something to enjoy doing it.”
WHAT?!? 🤯 As a perfectionist (I’m in recovery now), the idea that someone would not only choose to do something they’re not good at, but they could actually enjoy it, absolutely blew my mind. It still blows my mind! I've spent so much of my life avoiding doing anything that might not turn out perfectly, or that might result in me looking even a little bit foolish, which means I’ve avoided doing a lot of things. If you aren’t a perfectionist you’re probably wondering what I’m talking about because of course sometimes you have to do things you don’t know how to do because how else do you ever get better at something or try something new? Yeah, that’s not a mindset that comes naturally to me. Sometimes you have to just be done with the thing even though it’s not flawless because time’s up? Barf.
Part of my perfectionist recovery program involves constantly reminding myself to “not let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” And also that “good enough is good enough.” Gabrielle Blair shared a recent thread that takes it further with “Most things worth doing are worth doing poorly,” and I don’t hate that. Obviously this doesn’t apply to things like, you know, driving. And brain surgery. But in this busy, busy season, the idea that I could text a family selfie to the people I love instead of sending out custom-printed family photo-shoot Christmas cards that I didn’t even think about until I was writing this sentence… well, it’s a relief.
What’s something you could half-ass this month because second-rate getting-it-done is better than not doing it at all? Shoot, what’s something you could cross off your list entirely?
Do you hear what I hear?
There were three Christmas albums on repeat in my house growing up. The first was Merry Christmas by Johnny Mathis, which I had zero appreciation for until I became an adult. The second was A Very Special Christmas which is the reason my sister and I learned to use our dad’s hilariously complicated 1980’s CD player. (I love the album even more after reading about it.). And the third was The Holly and the Ivy by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. My mom would put it on the record player (!) and it would crackle a little before “Deck the Halls” came on. She listened to it while she decorated the tree, and it was always playing on Christmas morning.
Fort Bramble Discovery & Play Guides are a great gift for anyone with young kids in their life, especially anyone who doesn’t need more stuff.
How many sleeps ‘til Christmas?
You know all those little weird shapes and sizes of gift wrap leftover from trying to cover a bicycle or a pinball machine or an absurdly large Squishmallow? Ribbon scraps that need a home? I have an idea: Set up a gift wrapping situation for your kids. For the best odds of success, give them a roll of washi tape or masking tape (giving Scotch tape to children is like putting a cat in charge of the Christmas lights, don’t do it).
What will they wrap? No clue. My four year old likes writing the same three words over and over again on a sheet of construction paper then rolling it up and wrapping it and that’s the gift. My six year old prefers to wrap small toys or pieces of cardboard. These treasures get tossed under the tree and occasionally become part of their let’s-pretend-it’s-Christmas-today play. Requires zero advanced planning, zero special materials, and it seems to make waiting for actual Christmas day more tolerable. 10/10 recommend.
Believing in magic.
Mary Van Geffen (highly recommend her Moms of Spicy Ones class if you happen to have a kid whose meltdowns resemble exorcist level events ask me how I know) recently posted: “You don’t have to manufacture the magic of Christmas for your child. The magic is already all around them.” YES.
Kids don’t need us to make Christmas magical because the world is magical to kids. The reason we think we need to make ourselves crazy or broke or both trying to create a holiday (or a childhood) that looks like a Pinterest board is because we - the grown-ups - have forgotten about the magic. We can’t hear the sleigh bell anymore! (That’s a Polar Express reference.) But our kids? They feel it. A real live tree in the living room is magical. Listening to the Nutcracker Suite is magical. Decorating cookies, waiting to find out what’s inside wrapped boxes, driving around to see the lights at night, snipping a sheet of printer paper and unfolding it to reveal a snowflake… all extraordinary.
So may I suggest that you let your kids make Christmas magical for you? Accept the invitation to see the world through their eyes. Make room for that sense of wonder and anticipation and delight. Light candles together and watch them flicker, and let yourself be amazed.
Quote of the Day
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” —Roald Dahl, The Minpins
I hope your weekend is lovely and full, but not too full, and that you find time to snuggle under a soft cozy blanket (or a scratchy wool one) with your kiddos and a favorite seasonal book or a few episodes of Bluey.
Love, Kathryn