Monday, December 11, 2006

Making Do on Mondays: Don't "Do" Too Much

Hello there everyone. This Monday's practical tips post is a bit different... instead of offering time/money saving tips or suggesting fun crafts and activities, I thought I'd focus in a little bit on avoiding the crazed mentality of this season.

A lot of people already are convicted as much as they can be on staying away from consumerism and frantic shopping for Christmas. But there exists another extreme... those who are so busy trying to make "this" Christmas special that they forget to just let things be.

We've offered lots of ideas on little family traditions for Advent/Christmas and activities to engage your children in the real meaning of the season. But I encourage all of you not to fall in the trap that I found myself in earlier this month: trying so hard to start traditions and do every Advent activity under the sun so I could inculcate the beautiful season's meaning to my kids.

Traditions are wonderful. Good. Efficacious. Even, holy sometimes. But they aren't the end all of what Christmas is about. I ran around like mad trying to find some Advent candles for our advent wreath a couple weeks ago... none were to be found on this island. I wanted to do beeswax candles with my kids on St. Ambrose's feastday... money was too tight. I've been meaning to string some popcorn up around our Christmas tree... haven't found the time. And the thought of all the cookie recipes I want to try out is absolutely overwhelming considering the state of my "more than petite" kitchen. I can't find any of our Christmas music because the house is completely torn apart (we are insulating the walls of our drafty, impossible to heat home right now and boy has that been a challenge on the whole family).

So I was starting to get a little depressed about not being able to make our "perfect" Christmas. Then I wised up and said to my self: "Self, God has absolutely every aspect of your family's welfare in His sight. He knows what we need and He is the source of all happiness." Happiness isn't to be found in the exterior traditions as if they are our god... happiness and meaning are found in the moments of gratitude and interior preparation for our Coming Lord. And so... that's all I can focus on this year. We have not the time, resources or money to do all the things I thought would make a perfect Christmastime. There will be only a couple of humble little gifts under the tree for the kids. But I feel joy despite not "doing" everything I wanted to do.

I am making it a priority to visit the Blessed Tabernacle every day... complete with my travelling circus. Even for just five minutes on the way back from the grocery store. And yeah, it's a pain to unbuckle each kid and bundle them up and shuffle into church... but oh the peace I feel when I see that sanctuary candle flickering... He waits for me.

And with the little traditions I hoped to begin with my family. It must be put off. We did manage to get our Jesse Tree going, and I'm proud of that. But the emotional demands of everything else has to take a back seat this year. This year all I can do, all I can offer... is to wait for Him.


-Ellie

Labels: holiday musings

one of us :: 9:05 AM :: 1 Comments

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Thursday, December 07, 2006

My Errand to the Post Office

We're off to mail a few Christmas packages. We live close to town now, so walking is one thing that brings pride to our multi-hundred, thousand-dollar purchase. So I've got a few big boxes- that's no problem with a radio flyer wagon... first time I've used this in a while. Elijah (4) is pulling, wearing his school uniform and bright yellow rain boots, looking like a very responsible Christopher Robin type. Triona (1) is barefoot and riding with the boxes, smiling out from the middle of them and the loose christmas presents. Henry (2) is pushing in the back, content with his job which he finds very important... his blonde hair is just long enough so that I'm waiting for someone to call him a girl, but he is so unkept today that I doubt that will happen. Despite that, we look cute. I am walking along the side, hands free, as my children are enjoying their mission. Cars and pedestrians pass and smile while I smile back with a knowing motherly-type of smile. Sure, no one napped today- but we are doing great.

At the post office: I am in need of a box so I grab one of the ready-post folded boxes, contstruct the box and fill it with presents. The kids are watching, all is fine.

At the counter: The lady tells me that I can save $4 if I am able to cram - which will be a work of art- all of the presents into this much smaller Priority Mail box. I can't resist the challenge. I get to work. "Oh, you can go ahead of me; this might take a while...", I say to the others in line. Tree is climbing out of the wagon, now loudly voicing her boredom. "Just a second, guys."...
"Um-- your son just mailed something, I'm not sure what it was". (-Lady behind me in line). Alright: I stop the project for a minute. Time to look like a mom that disciplines well: "Henry, that was a big no-no... you sit in this wagon until I am done...". I get back to work and glance behind me. The lady behind us is holding the wagon while Henry climbs over its rickety edge. "This is an accident waiting to happen," she says with a frown.
It doesn't matter now because I feel a surge of victory: All of the gifts are neatly fit in the box perfectly! Oh, wait - except for these two which happen to be the biggest. Tree has a sticky note in her hand on which I had happened to write down my sister's mailing address. It is going into her mouth. I save it just in time, shove the remaining presents into the box with the brutal force of Cinderella's stepsister "I'll MAKE it fit!" while yelling to Henry, "get back in the wagon!". (These gifts will not arrive in good condition.) Time to write the address but I am holding Tree at this point and she will not be quiet unless she has the pen in her hand. I whisper angrily "Stop!" and "Cut it out!", pulling the pen away to start writing again...she is grabbing it again. The address is barely legible- "I didn't write the return address," I tell the post lady with a pathetic wimpy tone. She takes pity on me and lets me dictate it to her. It is the turn of the lady who was behind me now. At the clerk next to me, she is ordering Christmas stamps and I hear her being asked, "Snowflakes or Madonna and Child?" She responds, "Snowflakes."

Ok: so one box left- a moderately sized box- and the price for this one: $42.00 express; $38.00 3-day, or $26.00 parcel-post. I am standing there left wondering if the value of the items in the box even equate to the shipping charges. Meanwhile the children are falling apart on me, and we are creating the biggest scene possible. The sweet post lady -God bless her- offers my children stickers. Oh how nice. One for each. Henry, though, is extrememly scared of the modern, blue-and-white eagle-looking thing on his sticker. He starts crying loudly, "Too cary! Too cary!" Ok- it'll be Parcel-Post. Here's my credit card! Tree is not happy about anything now so I sit her in the wagon giving her free reign over my purse: a complete act of desperation on my part. She starts pulling things out one by one... looking for my wallet which I have in my hand. I had forgotten what was in there until now... not much to note except an extra pair of underwear for my newly potty-trained Henry. On her treasure hunt Tree flings the underware aross the post office floor, and I embarrasingly laugh and put it back while I am waiting to sign. Annoyed at this obstruction of her vision, she pulls it out again only to fling it across the floor-again. Elijah thinks this is so funny and thank God for him I am able to laugh- a real one. I sign the slip-- "No thanks," on the receipt, console my frightened #2, and head for home... by the way, what happened to the kid's book which Tree was holding? We are no longer cute, as I, pregnant, am carrying my insistent and tired 2 year old, while pulling Elijah and Tree in the wagon behind. But ahhh... who cares about all that? At least I would have chosen the Madonna and Child stamps. :)



~Hope (!), who is finally into her first very own house, writes from sunny and warm Southern California

Labels: holiday musings

one of us :: 7:56 AM :: 6 Comments

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