Keeping My Razors (Alternatively Titled: Not Getting Locked in a Padded Room at Christmas)

I know it's hip to be square now. Everyone is screaming the word "SIMPLICITY!!" so much right now that it just feels like a ridiculous, made-up buzzword. (Synergy!) But I'm still going to tackle that buzzword, that concept. Just fair warning. A lot of this sounds soapboxy. I don't blame you for skipping over to hilarious rants about children instead.

I've written about Christmastime simplicity before. Even four years ago I was getting old and crotchety. But I honestly don't think I can handle it anymore without either getting locked in a padded room or going completely off the grid and throwing out my razors. (No one should see me without the empowering aid of razors.) You guys, the pressure is driving me crazy.

The pressure to have a "perfect" Christmas, whatever that is. The pressure to make thousands of precious, winning memories with my children. The pressure to decorate my home in beautifully themed decor that is only made with handcrafted items that I have personally produced from objects already lying around the house. The pressure to bake all kinds of twee desserts for all my neighbors. (Actually, that will probably happen. We usually do this because we are surrounded by older widows. They need cookies.) The pressure to BUYBUYBUY, even though we have so much stuff, so much junk, so much sh*t that I honestly can't think of anything, absolutely anything, that my kids absolutely need for presents.

And all this pressure is ridiculous, because we have consciously removed so many influences from our lives. We do not have a television. We do not have smartphones or iPads or even a Netflix account. If I want a movie, I go to the library and then get all huffy that someone else checked out A Muppet Christmas Carol before I did. We do have the internet, but I have found myself stepping away from a few sites (I'm looking at you, Pinterest) in an effort to stave off the pressure that really and truly is make believe and imaginary and contrived and just plain NOT. REAL.

You know who matters right now? Besides the obvious Sunday School answer of "Jesus." Who matters right now is my family. My children, my husband, my nieces and nephew and sisters and brothers and moms and dads and my dear, dear friends. My community. Other people. People who need warmth and food and kindness and positive holiday experiences and Christ and maybe some homemade cookies and most definitely NOT an iPad. Or a $200 doll. Or, I don't know, hipster-ific coasters ironically made from fallen limbs in my backyard. (Though that's not a terrible idea.)

I read this article in the Tribune last week and died and screamed and then died again. No one needs that much stuff, even in a boom year. Sure, our kids are getting gifts. Two gifts each, in fact. King Peter is getting her first Barbie, and the big boys are getting comically small Lego sets. (Legos? Are not cheap.) Their other gifts consist of workbooks from our local teacher supply store because they all love homework. A few things for stockings, and we're done. Oh, and poor Baby H is getting his saint's icon because that's what we do for our kids when they're too little to know what's going on. Plus he has a lot of toys already.

What my kids need most is the gift of experiences. In the past, when money has been less tight, we've done things like a special Christmas day trip to Chicago or a special ride on a steam engine for family experiential gifts. (Which totally count toward Christmas gifts.) We've done an Advent calender for several years now, and instead of gifts or candy our kids get to snuggle in front of a movie with their parents or jump in the car to see Christmas lights or make paper snowflakes. We talk about the family we sponsor through World Vision. We talk a lot about Mary and Baby Jesus and Gabriel and the Annunciation and the angels and Joseph and the whole crew. We go downtown and see the lion statues wreathed at the library and then walk with the crowd to see the city's tree lit up. We routinely nix a myriad of activities available in December because said activities would involve leaving the house and stressing all of us out. Who needs that? Not us. We stay home and drink hot chocolate. We save our money and our sanity. We keep our razors.

We make a lot of our gifts for other people, or buy them used. In fact, The Professor's side of the family activity practices homemade and used gifts. We decorate living rooms. There are still gifts; there are still lists; there is still careful budgeting so no one gets left out. But it's very simple and manageable, and we still have plenty to tithe and donate and maybe even use a small amount to take our kids to the movies over break.

None of this is new. A lot of people do this stuff. But a lot of people also get their kids involved in so many after-school activities, Christmas musicals, forced pictures with Santa, and lists and lists of "needed" gifts that they just want to cry. And then they still have to shop.

I don't have it all figured out, okay? I am so far from perfect. My husband had to wrestle a box of colored lights out of my hands at Lowe's because, seriously Christine, the money just isn't there, and we have lights already, okay? I managed to sneak my mom some money so she could grab me an awesome star pendant from Ikea for our tree, and that was against my husband's wishes. (Though he had to admit later that it looks pretty dang cool, while simultaneously grumbling about putting holes in the ceiling.) I got all irritated with The Professor for wrapping gifts in newspaper, before realizing that he's right, it's the most responsible thing to do. And also, who cares? It's just going to get tossed. Might as well be free and recycled.

But I think we're on the right track. A lot of this simplicity has been forced upon us by graduate school. Things won't always be this tight, and who knows, maybe we'll get our kids more than two gifts in the future. (Maybe...FOUR.) But I'd really like to consider myself on the way to permanent healing after my kids SO VERY EXCITEDLY colored, cut out, and hung up homemade, paper ornaments on our Christmas tree and I could honestly say, "You guys, that looks so awesome."

Because guess what? Our tree doesn't have a theme.

And it is perfect.

 

I get to keep my razors. Win.