The holiday season is fully upon us. There’s less than one week before Christmas and I am super excited. Christmas is a family favorite. Obviously, the children love it because… GIFTS. I’ve tried to provide the giving is better than receiving narrative and they think that’s great and all, but they’re children. So yeah… YAY GIFTS!!! Hahaha!
I grew up in a house where Christmas was a big deal. I mean, multiple Christmas trees, decorations everywhere, gifts galore and the joy of the season in abundance. My mother orchestrated the production of Christmas and injected it into everyone around her. So, it still stands. The tradition is firmly planted.
Imma be honest though. Christmas stresses me out. We have four children. That’s a lot of seasonal “joy” to spread around. And it’s not even all the money. Trust— there’s a lot of it being spent. It’s the doing of it all. And I’m conflicted; right? Because I love the outcome of the doing. I even actually love the act of doing, but it is also wearing me out.
See, food and cooking is how I say, “I love you.” It’s how I say, “I’m glad you’re here.” Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I have such difficulty managing the goals for my health and fitness, but I digress. We can chat about that another day.
Off I went to the store the day before the party.
On my way to the store I decided the menu would include baked ziti and a tossed salad with yummy add-ins like gorgonzola cheese, green apples, craisins and such. I grabbed ground and linked Italian sausage. I quickly remembered several of my guests don’t eat pork. No worries! I’ll just grab some ground beef and more ingredients. Now, I have to make two sauces, but I got this. I headed to check out.
Oh crap!!! One of my guests can longer eat tomato anything. Side note: I grew up in a house that was always entertaining. My parents taught me that you make people feel welcomed by considering them in your choices. In other words, make sure there’s something for everyone. I decided to grab some chicken breasts and veggies to make chicken alfredo pasta too. I finished shopping. I had about 20lbs of meat, a full cart and a fully overwhelmed heart.
It is our job to combat misogyny, toxic masculinity, predatory behavior and rape culture by educating and empowering children. Talk to them about predatory behavior and grooming. Tell them, age appropriately, what these creeps say and do… Wait. Obviously, parental discretion should be used, but nothing predators do or say is age appropriate.
Tell your children the truth.
Tell your them what predators say and how they manipulate.
And for God’s sake stop insisting your kids hug and kiss everybody. What if I told you— YOU are grooming your own child for predators. You are the biggest obstacle to your child’s understanding that permission to touch their body can only be given by them.
It’s time for some self-reflection. Hold up the mirror and hold that person accountable for the negative emotions felt when other people experience happiness you think belongs to you. The real problem might be that you spend too much time watching the moves of others when you should be making your own.
Maybe I’m a little old fashioned in this area. I don’t know. Getting a hand written note will literally bring a tear to my eye. All this texting and technology has taken so much of the human element out of what should be very personal interactions. Typed thank you cards??? I know it’s the quick way to do it. Have all the thank you cards pre-printed, sign them and just drop them in the mail. I’m not judging you. I’m just saying. The people in attendance didn’t take the quick way. They were thoughtful in their scheduling and they found money in their budget for you. You need to say thank you appropriately.
To be clear, social media doesn’t really make anyone hate their life. You hate your life because you hate your life. You continue to make the same choices, revisit the same places, roll around with the same individual and wonder why nothing in your life is different. I believe Einstein had words to say about that kind of behavior. He called it insanity. Einstein was correct. Imagine that. Unfortunately, you haven’t heard the wise words of the late great Einstein. So, you stay on the ferris wheel. Professing to hate every minute of it. Screaming to get off. Yet, never removing your safety belt. Never standing. Never being miserable enough to stop the revolutions.
