Sorry I Didn't Make Handprint Hearts With You, Kids
But you know I love you every day of the year, right?
I am not the holiday mom. My friend is. If a get together falls anywhere near a special day, you can be sure that there will be themed cookies for the kids to decorate, some kind of paper thing to be colored or made, and a themed snack on hand. Her kids have painted mini pumpkins and put googly eyes on cardstock gingerbread men. They have assembled turkeys from store bought feathers and popsicle sticks, and filled little pots with potting soil and grass seed to create Jesus’ tomb. They have countdowns, too. And special celebratory breakfasts. It’s lovely. It really is. Their family really enjoys it, and it brings her a lot of joy to see little (and big) hands making memories together on Easter and Valentine’s Day and the Fourth of July.
But like I said, I’m not the holiday mom. Oh, we celebrate Christmas, and Easter, and Thanksgiving— all from a faith-based position. I even make Christmas ornaments with my younger ones most years— especially now that my older kids have their own trees, and have taken the ornaments they made when they were little with them. Sometimes, before a day the world has named as being “special",” inspiration and art supplies come together perfectly, and I will randomly shock my kids by saying, “Today we’re making this!” They’re almost always game, but they never make the little thing I saw on Pinterest. Creativity gets in the way, and the popsicle stick and feather turkey morphs into some sort of crown, and I vow to quit scrolling for ideas because my kids have plenty of their own and really, I don’t care that much about Pancake Day.
“Holidays” like Valentine’s (which is today) used to make me feel like a less than mother. Somehow I’d always miss the hype leading up to the day. I don’t know how. Maybe it’s my habit of avoiding the center aisles of the grocery store? Whatever the case, they’d sneak up on me. Then I’d be reminded somehow that President’s Day, or Labor Day, or Columbus Day, or Pie Day was coming, and I’d feel a wash of guilt thinking of my kids not waking up to a fun, themed breakfast. They weren’t getting cards taped to a piece of candy, complete with silly puns. They had no idea it was Talk Like a Pirate Day, and would have no memories in adulthood of… talking like a pirate on the specific day you were supposed to talk like a pirate, and not just do it because you were in your “pirates are awesome” phase.
As I’ve gotten older, though, I’ve embraced my lack. Our lives aren’t lived from one high point to another, and that’s ok. We live right here in the mundane, where the crafts are out on the table pretty much always, and the kitchen is open for anyone to make the family a special dessert if they choose. We live in the place where memories are made all the time, even if they’re not centered on the one day of the year when hearts or apples or eggs are the thing. We live together, every day. And you know, I think that’s pretty special in and of itself.
I don’t begrudge anyone their flights of fancy with crafts or celebrations. I am all in favor of joy, especially when it helps you find a sparkle of hope in a long winter, or those impossible days of raising only little ones, where anything different is a sanity saver.
A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.—Proverbs 17:22
But if you happen to be like me, and your kids associate Cinco de Mayo with the Battle of Puebla and not wearing sombreros and eating chips and salsa, it’s o.k. There’s plenty of joy to be found in other places. You don’t have to commit to glitter and pom poms every month in order for your kids to have good memories. You don’t have to learn to make the perfect teddy bear shaped pancakes, or stay up late dipping strawberries in chocolate and dabbing on sugar eyeballs. You can just be the mom who lives out the Gospel with a smile on her face. You can be the mom who says, “Look how blessed we are!” You can be the mom who points to the beauty and wonder in the every day.
It’s enough. It really is.
In Christ,
Heather
I'm a 50/50 holiday mom, sometimes I go all out, sometimes I forget it exists. It all depends on where I'm at pregnancy/postpartum. My oldest is 4 and I'm pregnant with our 4th so consistency isnt my strong suit in this season. I try to not let the guilt seep in, but it is a sneaky creature. Thank you for the reminder.
I always felt guilty for not celebrating all the "special" days with my kids. I really never knew it was a thing to do with my kids until they were grade school age and others were doing. My guilt came from not really trying because it wasn't my thing. They are all adults now and it didn't seem to harm them. Thanks for making me feel like this is normal for me and was not harmful to my kids. Your writing really speak to me. Thanks for letting the Lord use your gift to help others!