Surviving the Holidays

Dear Santa, God, and anyone else listening,

I made it.

Now let me explain what I mean.

These last few weeks, what we call The Holiday Season, or in short, The Holidays, has been a lot for me. I say this for lack of a better word, phrase, or accurate explanation of the complete chaos and madness, but also fun and rewarding work that I’ve been able to do.

You see, along with being a mom, I am a Child Life Specialist at a children's hospital. In this role, we find ourselves to be the busiest during the month of December since my team is responsible for coordinating community visitors, accepting, storing and organizing donations, and doing whatever we can to bring a little more joy into the patients’ care plans.

I think it can be said that as we go into elf-mode as we check our patient lists, wrap presents for parties, and make sure Santa is ready for his Christmas Eve visits. It’s physically exhausting and emotionally draining, as there’s always one more thing to do which made the eight-hour shifts become nines and tens, with evening hours and weekend shifts mixed into the typical five-day work week.

But it’s worth all the blood (from cardboard box cuts), sweat (overproducing heaters in old buildings), and tears (mostly the good kind plus one overstretched moment) when you see the smiles on the kids' faces as they hug their new stuffies, ride the holiday train past the nurses' stations, and wave to Santa and the hospital's adorable reindeer-dog. After all, those are the kind of moments that would make The Grinch's heart grow a few sizes bigger.

But that was just part of my holiday season.

The work part of my life.

After all, I’m also a mom, and in this more important role, I still had to create the same joy and magic in my own home, even after exhausting myself at work. And to be completely honest, that was the much harder task, and also the more meaningful one.

I’ll admit that I was over-prepared this year for my daughter to ask me the inevitable childhood question, knowing that a few of her besties were in on the secret and fully expecting it to come up at school, during a play date or one of their FaceTime group chats.

It would be a question that would change the holiday season for my only child family forever, and I was truly as prepared for it a parent could be.

But it never came. At least not aloud, as I’m sure there were doubts and questions jumping around in her head.

And so, no matter how drained I was from work and strained by daily costs and monthly bills, I dedicated my time, my money, and my last bits of energy to bring Santa’s magic and the Christmas spirit into our house.

Now what most don’t know is that since September, our house has felt anything but a home as we’ve been waiting on landlords, plumbers, contractors, electricians, and inspectors to, well for lack of a better work, fix the problems that started very unexpectedly that one night shortly after my birthday when a major plumbing issue turned into a multiple home repair nightmares and many other daily concerns in our lives.

And maybe it’s because if this, on top of everything else, that this year, more than ever, I felt this I had to bring the physical aesthetic of Christmas into our house, in order to make it feel a bit more like a home again.

So, I spent my free time ordering discounted holiday decorations at Amazon, Target, and Walmart, and making multiple after-work and weekend trips to the local Hobby Lobby, Kohls, TJ Maxx, Five Below, and Dollar Tree. I searched for holiday-themed figures, red and green home decor, twinkling lights, cookie-scented candles, and the ever-so-important warm and cozy festive blankets.

I granted my daughter's wish for a Grinch room and brought her dad's love of Disney into his, bringing the Christmas spirit into their bedrooms in addition to the main living space in the house.

It was all exhausting, as my mind spun with ideas and my body worked on bringing them to light. Again, it was all worth it to help both of them feel a little bit more of the spirt of Christmas to their walls, their eyes, and their hearts.

And as for me, the tree lights, warm and cozy blankets, and cuddles with my girls are possibly even more healing than the many cups of coffee and glasses of wine that I drank while trying to survive the work of the holiday season and all the emotions that arise while doing so.

Because while some get to experience the fun with friends and family, this time of year always reminds me that my life didn’t pan out the way I thought it would. There’s only a single child’s stocking hanging up, when I always hoped for at least one more. Our holiday traditions are slim and we barely go out, mostly because everything costs money that we don’t have. We don’t host get-togethers with friends because the house isn’t really accommodating for that. And maybe more than anything, I struggle knowing that we aren’t traveling back to my hometown to spend Christmas with my parents, my brother, and our extended family, reminiscing about decades-long memories with our grandparents, eating the traditional holiday feast, playing board games and video games with cousins, and laughing over the silliest white elephant presents. I miss getting to spend time with the newest members of our family, sadly only knowing them through my cousins’ texts and social media postings.

But one thing I’ve learned is that I can’t dwell on what I can’t do or don’t have. Instead, I have to focus on what I can do and what I do have.

So I bought the lights and decorations, putting them up around our offices and work areas and then turning on every single one of them as soon as I got home every night. I wore my Christmas shirts during the day and put on my coziest comfies and cuddled up under the blankets, often with a cute dog or daughter next to me. I listened to festive songs. I watched many of the cheesy holiday movies. I drank red wine, spiced cider, and the occasional hot chocolate with marshmallows. And then I went to bed, preparing to all of it again tomorrow.

I thought about work and the tasks that needed to get done during our busiest time of the year, and searched for deals on my daughter’s pages-long list to Santa, able to provide more than expected thanks to many kind and generous friends and family members. And while doing this, I prayed for a Christmas miracle on Clara Drive: Winning the lottery, moving to a coastal beach town, and/or my longtime celebrity crush taking a chance on me.

(Those damn Hallmark movies will do that to a girl.)

And then when the holiday season finally came to an end, after hosting an NYE sleepover for three very loud and happy fourth grade girls, I took one of my beloved naps, which I wished was more like hibernation acknowledging it’s more likely what my mind, body, and spirit needed the most.

Then when I woke up, I wondered, will I have to do all of this again next holiday season?

Or would things be different?

Will my daughter change the holiday season for us?

Will I get to spend the Christmas Day with my parents and brother?

Will I finally live in a house that actually feels like home?

Will I still be living every day in survival, hoping that Santa grants wishes for well-deserved grownup too?