Advent and Learning to Simplify

It's been a long time since I've written. Life has been - as it is for most of you, too - busy.  Life with littles is just plain messy and always a little chaotic, it seems, no matter how hard I try.

Advent is upon us. The Christmas season always brings a mixed bag of emotions for me: I want to celebrate and enjoy the magic of Christmas, and make it fun for my kids, but I also get mixed up in the scurrying of buying presents, the wrapping, the decorating, the moving of the d*** elf, the crafting, the cookie making, and of course, the travelling, which often brings with it nights of little sleep.  I largely engineer all of these things for our little family, but this year, I'm wondering...

Does life have to be this crazy?  Do I bring this upon myself?  Can I not just be still?

When I was a little girl, my grandma would always have me over one day in the weeks before Christmas to help her make and decorate cookies. I have such happy memories of doing this with her and it was always joyful. (And, budding little feminist that I was, I made sure we started making gingerbread girls instead of just boys - because equality, people.) She was the mother of six children and the grandmother of a whole bunch more. She was also faithful in a way that I strive to be, so much so that she made all six of those children go to every Easter Mass of the weekend.  They were probably covered in dirt and complaining, but she did it anyway.

A couple of years ago, I was reading something about mothering during the Christmas season when there is so much pressure (or inspiration, depending on how you look at it) to make ornaments and crafts with little handprints, or seven different kinds of homemade cookies, or whatever.  And it said something along the lines of if it's going to make you yell, skip it.  It's not worth it.  Let it be, and let them play, and let yourself find peace in Christmas instead of to-do lists.  If you find joy in making cookies, wonderful. If it's just going to cause stress, skip it.

Here I am sitting on the computer in the middle of the day. There is a pile of laundry upstairs that keeps growing (and growing, and growing); there are muffins for lunches to be made; breakfast dishes that still haven't been washed; presents to be ordered; Christmas cards that need addressing. The baby is sleeping, so now's my chance. But I'm writing instead.

Sometimes I wonder if it's even possible to be at this stage of mothering (or any stage, really) and not be stressed or at the very least busy a good portion of the time. There is just so much - the kids are always hungry, the kitchen always needs cleaned, there is always a mounting pile of laundry, and a bum to be wiped.  There are sore feet to be rubbed in the wee hours of the morning, and babies that need rocked, and books to be read.  But nevertheless, this year, I'm trying to simplify. I knocked out a good portion of shopping in one day and am doing the rest online. (Not going to lie, in that one day of shopping, I texted Ryan both "Target has eaten my soul," and "I'm want to lay down in the middle of the aisle and buy everyone gift cards"... so I'm still working on the peace thing.)

There is a true magic of Christmas that I'm trying to share with my kids, and it came quietly and humbly in a manger.  I try to remind them that this is the reason for Santa, and the lights, and the presents, and the everything.  God put his entire plan for the whole human race into the hands of a poor woman and a newborn in a quiet and lowly stable.  If this was good enough for God, why do I think I need so much more?

This is my favorite Christmas decoration. I make sure I put it somewhere that the kids can see it. It was my grandmother's and it always reminds me that the whole purpose of the presents is to honor the birth of a baby.