Torturous Christmas Traditions

Torturous Christmas Traditions

1. The Christmas Card
Ahhhh, this is the holiday tradition that I love to loathe. I really do. I adore getting the cards but the giving? Yech.

2. The Christmas Eve Service
Nothing like a “family” church service to coincide with the year’s biggest night of bedtime torture. Wrestle and threaten children in a tight space and then go home to scrounge up cookies for Santa.

3. Exchanging Presents
I don’t want to do this. I don’t need a present and I don’t want to buy any other adults presents. I am drowning as it is.

4. Family Encounters
Why does the very nature of Christmas demand that you see every living member of your shared gene pool? What’s wrong with January?

5. Neighborhood Gift Giving
I can’t even figure out where the presents are that I have hidden for my children. I would like to begin a tradition where you hang a black flag and it means, no gifts here. Instead, I feel filled with guilt and terribly inept.

6. Birthday Party
My oldest son was born five weeks early 11 years ago, five days before Christmas. Presents, birthday parties, plans and enthusiasm all elude me.

7. School Parties
Perhaps those schools in metropolitan areas have been banned from all things holiday, but in eastern NC, we don’t subscribe to the political correctness of the world and so, game on.

8. Santa Presents
It’s not enough for me to figure out presents from my husband and I and my parents. I also have to play the role of someone with an unlimited budget.

9. Nice Clothes
I have totally abandoned this annual plague that haunts my family. We are in Florida and I didn’t even bring a hint of anything that would elude to someone being well-kempt, except Amos maybe.

10. Accepting Reality
In my imagination, all things are wonderful. Children in matching pajamas taking turns opening presents while I sip yummy hot Cuban coffee and pop in a ham biscuit. I clearly shouldn’t have had four children as the mayhem that ensues is far from this recurring dream. Oh well.

Share this post: