I’d Rather Be A Real Mom Than A Super Mom

What if we as mom’s, parents, guardians, and caregivers gave ourselves a break? What would that look like? How would that feel?

When you figure it out, let me know…

Because I majorly sucked at the mom thing this week. 

That’s what happens when we try to do it all. We hold ourselves to these ridiculous expectations and then feel like a failure when we don’t meet them. 

Saying yes all the time won’t make me Wonder Woman, it will make me a worn out woman.” – Lisa Terkeurst

Show me a perfect mom, and…well, you can’t. 

It all started with a major work project. 

Suddenly, roles were reversed, and I was leaving the house at the crack of dawn while the hubs was playing Mr. Mom. Sounds like a vacation, right?!

Wrong.

In comes the guilt. 

  • Missing the first Awards Program in forever….
  • Receiving that dreaded “sick call” when I’m an hour away and can do nothing about it…
  • Missing an important birthday party invite until the last minute….

You name it, it happened.

And I stressed. 

But guess what. We made it. We all made it to the end of the week in one piece. Nobody died. Nobody needs therapy. (As far as I know) And nobody hates me.

In fact, we all learned how to pull together and do our part. Because that’s what we do as families. We’re a team. We work together and make it all happen. 

And when one person changes positions, we adjust. We cover for each other. Fill in the gaps.

It doesn’t make us bad parents. It makes us good parents.

We are teaching our children that life doesn’t always go as planned. It’s not the same every day. Just because mom usually does the morning thing, school drop off, and daily emergencies doesn’t mean dad can’t do it too! And apparently he’s not terrible at it, because they made it to school even earlier than usual. I have no idea what they were wearing or if their hair was combed…but who even cares?!

They need to know that they may walk into a college class that will rock their world. They need to know a boss may throw things at them they weren’t expecting and ask them to do the “impossible.” They need to know that they have to stay flexible and go with the flow. Because that.is.life.

The bottom line is this. We have to stop beating ourselves up over this stuff. We are not teaching our children anything by being there at their every beck and call. 

That missed awards program? The boys loved having their dad there for a change. It was special. He was able to meet friends and experience the crazy. And bless him for sending me pictures!

That sick phone call that made me feel like the worst mom ever? Let’s just say “miraculous recovery” when he realized nobody was coming to get him. Lunch sitting next to his sweet teacher certainly helped. Praise

That missed birthday party invite? It was ok! The mom understood. She showed grace! He made it to the party. It was fun! 

So instead of trying to do it all, be the perfect parent, and win at everything…let’s try being “real.” Because “real” is going to teach our kids the most about life. “Real” is going to keep them grounded. “Real” is going to make them awesome. 

And because “real” is really all we can do and survive. 

When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I. Psalm 61:2

What Do My Reactions Say To My Children?

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction…and a parent’s overreaction.

He met me at the door, eyes wide and brow furrowed. I immediately knew something was up, because the only one who meets me at the door these days is our 7 pound, 4-year-old toy poodle. Not our 8-year-old who typically has his eyes glued to a computer screen watching cats jump three feet in the air at the sight of a cucumber, painful football injuries…or people opening Christmas presents. (I didn’t even know that was a thing.)

No, it couldn’t be good.

As I opened the door, he launched into the horrific tale of walking into our master bathroom to use the restroom only to find a wet spot on the wall by the toilet. (gasp)

Right.

His delivery needs work, but it was good for an amateur.

So I began my usual line of questioning. What kind of wet spot? What color is it? Did you smell it? Are you sure it was already there and not just bad aim?!?

He quickly assured me that it was already there and that he had no idea how it happened…but that I should see for myself. So I went to investigate the crime scene with him trailing close behind.

Sure enough, there it was. A wet spot, still dripping, directly next to the toilet. So I did what any seasoned mom would do and bent down on hands and knees to smell it.

Perplexed that my keen supermom-senses did not detect any bodily fluids, I sat back on my heels and began to survey the room around me while Hayes stood there anxiously wringing his hands and repeating, “I have no idea what happened…it’s just weird.”

Right.

That’s when I caught sight of faint specks of red on the floor underneath the wet spot and a wad of wet toilet paper by the sink.

“Did you try to wash something off of the wall?”

You’d have thought I had accused him of grand theft, and he was getting 10-20 in the slammer.

Denial, tears, blame (it had to be the brothers…or the dog…or BOTH) ensued while I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

I wasn’t even mad, at least not about whatever had happened there. I just wanted him to tell me the truth, and I told him so. But the more I prodded him to come clean, the more the frenzy escalated until I finally just sent him to his room before I lost what little patience I had left and said something I would regret. (been there done that…too many times to count)

After a few minutes in the think tank (he does not like to be alone), he came out, sat at the kitchen island, and stared at me.

“Yes?”

Then came the tears, “But I don’t want you to be mad at me.” 

“I’m not.”

“But you are! You have the mad face!”

Sigh….“Ok, a little…but not because of the wet spot or whatever happened with the wet spot. I’m upset about the lying. The wet spot can be fixed easily; the lying is the real problem. That’s harder to fix.”

And that’s when the dam broke…and through the tears and the sniffing (lots of tears and lots of sniffing), I pieced together the sad tale of an 8-year-old who had a bloody nose, ran to the closest bathroom, made a mess on the wall, then tried to clean it up before anyone knew what had happened. How nobody else in the house knew all of this was going on, I will never know.

But in that moment, my heart broke a little.

Don’t get me wrong. He was still in trouble for lying and had to listen to my “Why it’s always better to tell the truth” speech. After 15 years of parenting, it has been fine-tuned and well-rehearsed, so I wasn’t about to waste it.

But what broke my heart was the fact that he was afraid to tell me the truth. Not because it was horrendous. Believe me, all three boys have done worse. Not because of the punishment. He knew he deserved whatever happened. I didn’t even play the “I’m disappointed in you” card, so it couldn’t have been that.

No, he was afraid of my reaction.

How many times have I completely flipped out over a spilled cup, a scratch on the car, a rip in a new pair of pants? How many times have I lost my mind over something little just because I was having a bad day? How many times have I made my children feel like something material, something replaceable, was more important than they are?

Like an arrow to the heart, I realized that I had failed in creating a safe space for them to come and share their mistakes and failures.

Oh sure, they talk to me about all kinds of things. They tell me all about their friends at school, what’s going on in their lives, who is doing what; and I pride myself on being the kind of mom who has an open line of communication with my children.

But when it comes to things like this, things they’ve done wrong and mistakes they’ve made….let’s just say my reaction has been less than inviting.

If they can’t come to me with the little things, how can I expect them to come to me with the big things?! It doesn’t mean there won’t ever be consequences or punishment. Those are part of life, and we have a responsibility as parents to see those through. They know that and expect it, but sometimes they just need a soft place to land when they mess up regardless of the consequences.

I want to be that soft place. I want to be approachable in the little things so they will feel safe enough to come to me with the big things too.

It’s not easy when life is hard, and busy, and stressful. Our nerves are frayed and our tempers are short. The last thing we need is one.more.thing. 

But in the grand scheme of things, what is really more important? Fixing a broken door or fixing a broken spirit?  We all know the answer, but simply asking the question puts it into perspective.

And it doesn’t become easier as they grow older, only harder. So it’s time to create that safe space for my family, that soft place to land. It’s time to show them that their feelings are important, and I love them more than things.

It’s time.

And…

It starts with me. It starts with my reaction. It starts now.

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” – James 1:19, 20

 

Goodbye, 2016. Hello, 2017.

As we near the end of each year, we typically begin to reflect upon the past 365 days and contemplate what we would like to change in the year ahead.

Looking back on 2016, it has been an eventful year to say the least. I’ve seen countless memes and posts with the general theme of “2016 sucked.” And I get it. It’s been turbulent with the Presidential Election, racial tension, police attacks & bathroom wars. We’ve lost countless beloved celebrities from our youth. I mean, these people entertained us in our living rooms and cars like they were part of the family! There has been sickness and death in our families and communities. Jobs lost. Marriages broken. So.much.heartache.

And while it is easy to focus on the bad, there is just as much good…if we look for it. My dad reminded me of this on Christmas Day. He sat beside the Christmas tree, Bible in hand, reading the story of Jesus’ birth just as his father had done before him many years ago. And just like Grandpa, he can never make it through the reading without stopping, tears in his eyes and a catch in his voice. We often tease him about this, the fact that he can’t finish a prayer or a Bible reading without tears; but the fact of the matter is, it’s the most precious thing in the world to us. Because he gets it. He looks past the fact that their car broke down on the way to visit us and sees God’s provision throughout the frustrating ordeal. He looks past the turbulent events of the past year and sees the abundant blessings…and he sat there and reminded us of those blessings.

Yes, 2016 was rough in many ways for many people. But in spite of it all, God is so good. The evidence is all around us. We just have to refocus our mind and heart to look for it.

So what about the new year…? How are we going to make 2017 “better”?

I’ve always loved the start of a new year just as I always looked forward to a new school year both as a student and as a teacher. It’s a fresh slate, a new start. A time to drop old habits, start new ones, and to awaken the dormant motivation within us if only for a short time. It’s an exciting time full of endless possibilities.

I’m not a resolutions girl myself. I feel like resolutions were made to be broken. Nothing makes me want to rebel more than if you tell me I can’t do it…or that I have to do it. Most resolutions are usually toast by Valentine’s Day, and then we all feel like failures because of it. My fragile self-esteem can’t take it. 

So I opt for goals. Goals that are just beyond realistic so that I have something to work towards, but I don’t feel like a loser if I don’t make it. I know, I know...it’s cheating. But it works for me.

I usually try to find a word or verse to carry with me into the new year, something to guide me in the goals that I set for myself. But this year is a little different. This year I chose a quote by a woman I had the pleasure of meeting at a writer’s conference back when I was fresh out of high school. She was hilariously funny and such an encouragement, so I have followed her ever since. And it’s like God just dropped this in my lap. This was it. This was what He wanted me to use.

“Pray continually. Wait expectantly. Trust fearlessly.” – Liz Curtis Higgs

This quote captures my heart and soul during this particular season of my life. I don’t know what 2017 holds. Heck, I don’t even know what tomorrow holds. But there is one thing I know and that is that God has a plan for my life and yours. He knows why He gave me a passion for writing and where it will take me. He knows why He gave you the gifts that you possess and how you will use them. He doesn’t make mistakes, and He doesn’t do anything without a purpose.

My goal for 2017 is to find His purpose.

What is His purpose for your life? It can be big or small. It can be public or private.

But whatever it is, may we all enter 2017 praying continually, waiting expectantly, and trusting in God fearlessly. 

He promises to lead the way.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

 

 

The Grace Standard

When we fail at being awesome, we need more grace and less judgment all around.

Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Take today, for instance.

I was going about my business, living my life, doing the typical Sunday stuff. You know…the stuff we put off all weekend then frantically try to complete by midnight on Sunday. It’s like we’re going to turn into a pumpkin when the clock strikes 12, so we’ve got to cram it all in after church.

And thank goodness, we made time for church, because someone needed to bless the muttering, complaining, and “less than appropriate words” stomping through our heads all afternoon. Heaven help us, if we didn’t start the day with a good dose of Jesus.

When out of nowhere, my husband snaps out of his football trance and says, “Hey…what time was that party today?”

Party?

Suddenly, everything in the room came to a screeching halt. My heart fell straight to my gut…and one of those “words” may or may not have popped out of my mouth.

The neighborhood “Happy Birthday to Jesus Party.”

Crap.

How did I forget the party? It’s a birthday party for Jesus, for crying out loud. What kind of person forgets that?!?!?

Me: A tired person.

Also Me: I bet nobody else forgot the party!

Me: We just moved to this neighborhood….they are going to think I’m a total flake.

Also Me: As they should!!!

So with 15 minutes left in the party, I sucked it up and texted the host, owning the fact that I totally screwed up. I mean…I was supposed to bring the mini cupcakes. Pretty sure I ruined Jesus’ birthday!!! (And I wonder where my kids get their flair for drama…)

Then I spent the next few hours fretting. Out loud.

I must have said, “I can’t believe I did that” 100 times until finally my 8-year-old said, “MOM…give yourself a break!!”

I just knew I was going to be labeled the “flaky mom” in the neighborhood. You know, the one you invite but don’t expect to come so you don’t give her anything “important” to bring. Drinks and chips. That was my fate. I would forever be the drinks and chips mom.

Fantastic.

But do you know what her response was?

Grace.

Complete grace. Not the kind that was sent in “good Christian love” but was as fake as the 17-year-old Christmas tree sitting in our living room…no, this was legit.

She even admitted to doing the same thing just a few months ago, and I don’t even care if she was lying through her teeth to make me feel better. BLESS HER.

Why is it that we have a hard time extending this kind of grace to ourselves and to others?

 Life is hard! Whether you have zero children and a thriving career or have 6 and are a stay-at-home mom…we have so many demands on us! Just being a woman and experiencing the emotional ups and downs we ride on a daily basis is hard enough! (Thanks, Eve!)

The sad truth is that I freaked out because I know the thoughts I’ve had about others who have “flaked” on me. Our first inclination is to think the worst. They didn’t want to come. They just don’t like me. They aren’t responsible. They should really manage their time better. (eye roll)

But where’s the grace? Where’s the empathy?

We’ve all been there and know we can’t be on our A-Game 100% of the time. It’s impossible. So why do we hold ourselves and others to an impossible standard?

“Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love.” Ephesians 4:2

I’ve come to the realization that it starts with us. I have to hold myself to a standard of grace not perfection, so that I can then extend that same grace to others. How can I show others grace if I can’t even show it to myself?

I can’t. And you can’t either. So instead of freaking out when we fail or casting judgment when others do the same, let’s purpose in our hearts to give ourselves a break this Christmas season and determine that we will show more grace in the year to come.

“I will hold myself to a standard of grace not perfection.”

Merry Christmas, and God Bless!!

How Does Birth Order Affect Me As A Parent?

It never ceases to amaze me that we have three children, all the same gender, with vastly different personalities. I mean, completely different. Not even on the same planet different. We wonder if they were switched at birth different.

It’s baffling.

And while I don’t buy into the whole birth order thing 100%, I do think there is some validity to this theory (originally formed by the Austrian psychiatrist, Alfred Adler ). It makes sense….and somewhat explains why our youngest child thinks the world revolves around him. Because in his mind, it does.

But these very differences are what makes them special and unique…what makes life interesting and fun. Each child plays a part in our family and respecting their differences helps them grown into healthy young men.

For instance, take the first born…

  • reliable
  • conscientious
  • organized
  • cautious
  • controlling
  • achieving
  • high self esteem

In other words, our 15-year-old son.

He was practically born into this world a miniature adult, and that was reinforced by the fact that the early years of his life were spent around grownups. (Most of our friends were still single…and hungry. So they came where they knew there would be food.) Because of this, he has never known a stranger and can talk to adults even more comfortably than he can his own age. Firstborns may seem to mature faster because this.

True to his birth order, he’s smart, a natural born leader, hard worker,  an over-achiever…and I totally expect him to make the big bucks and take care of his parents someday. (it’s the least he could do)

Now…sometimes his leadership skills could use some work. Barking orders at his younger brothers and clothes-lining them when they pass will not take him far in life. However, he wants to be an entrepreneur…so maybe it will work for him.

His cautious nature weighs the consequneces of his actions; and if he says he’s going to do something, you can count on the fact that he will. He’s an all around good kid who is going to go far in life.

“Hey! Did you know you can start a snapchat streak with yourself? It’s awesome. I’m smart…I’m funny…I’m super handsome…and I respond pretty fast!” – Xander

And then we have the second born (middle child)….

  • people pleasing
  • somewhat rebellious
  • good friend
  • peacemaker
  • social
  • lower self esteem

This one gets a little tricky. Our 12-year-old son is not necessarily rebellious…or social. However, he is also an introvert, so personality traits definitely play into this theory. But the rest is spot on. I even worried about him being a middle child when he was born, so we gave him my husband’s first name to make him feel special. (My textbook middle child brother-in-law had me paranoid.) 

Because he is also an introvert, he doesn’t have a large number of friends like his brothers, but the ones he has are treasured. Loyal to a fault, he will stand by his buddies even if he doesn’t see them very often

A peacemaker and people pleaser, he hates conflict and will even allow his brothers to have the object of dispute if it means avoiding a fight. (most of the time) And rest assured he will remind us all of such slights and use it to further confirm that we are all against him.

The middle child often gets a bum rap; but, in my opinion, the most wonderful thing about the middle child is the fact that they are, in every way, the middle child. His sweet disposition and quiet charm are the perfect balance to my ambitious firstborn and the last wild one. And let me tell you, we need the break.

Cade: Everyone drinks my drinks. Nothing is sacred.
Hayes: I didn’t see your name on it.
Cade: (writes name on new bottle)
Hayes: I’m still drinking it.
Cade: You suck. I’m sleeping with this tonight.

Finally…last, but certainly not least, we have the third born or baby…

  • fun-loving
  • manipulative
  • outgoing
  • attention seeking
  • self-centered
  • risk taker

This could not more accurately describe our 8-year-old if I had formulated the list myself. He’s the life of the party, the class clown, the star athlete.

With lofty goals of becoming an NFL wide receiver, he hasn’t even considered the fact that it may not happen. He wants to see his name in lights, all eyes on him as he runs his victory lap in this thing called life.

Quick-witted and funny, he often manipulates his way out of trouble, an art his brothers both detest and admire. It’s everything I can do sometimes to suppress a grin…and it completely derails my stern intentions. And.he.knows.it. 

As frustrating as all this may be at times, I love his passion, his fire. He’s a dreamer and puts feet to those dreams. He makes me believe, and I love that.

When the Pastor is telling a story about Abraham and the “good son” (the chosen one with promise), and Hayes gets a big grin on his face…points to himself…and says in a loud whisper, “The other two were mistakes.” 

So what does this all mean to me as a parent?

For a long time, I tried to steer them all in the same direction…treat them all the same. They were all boys, right? That in itself was a mystery to me. Throw in a variety of personalities, temperaments, and interests…and it’s like interpreting hieroglyphics.

But once I started responding to them in a language they understood, motivated them in a way that spoke to their personalities…they started thriving like never before. And, believe me, I’m still learning.

What works for one child (regardless of gender) may not work for another. We know that. But knowing it and applying it are two different things. It takes constant effort, consistency, and prayer.

May I be more mindful as they grow older not only to respond to them in a language they understand but to stay engaged in their lives so that my language shifts with their ever-changing seasons.

The Pleasing Pit

We don’t become people-pleasers overnight; and at the same time, it isn’t a life sentence. We can overcome the need to please, but it takes work…and Jesus.

Guess what, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you.

Gasp.

What?!?

I know…it’s shocking.

We live in a world where everyone has an opinion about everything and that includes what they think about you. But why do we care?

Hi, I’m Theresa, and I’m a people-pleaser. 

That’s why. At least, for me it is. I’ve spent a majority of my life caring far too much what people think, and I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one.

But you know what, the desire for others to like us in itself is not a bad thing. For the most part, that’s human nature and can sometimes drive us to do amazing things. It’s when it seeps into our souls like a cancer, eats away at the good inside, and consumes our every thought that it becomes a problem.

It starts out small…

When I was 4 years old, my biological father decided he didn’t want to be a husband or a dad anymore. It wasn’t a highly emotional thing for me; in fact, I don’t remember him much at all. I think the fact that my mother surrounded us with loving people went a long way to smooth the jagged edges on both of our hearts.

But not all of them. Although I was too young to truly understand what was going on, the people-pleaser in me still felt like maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I wasn’t good enough.

And so it began…

After many years on our own and a move from the beautiful mountains of Tennessee to the blustery state of Ohio, my mom remarried a wonderful man who took me on (at the age of 9) as his own. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for, but I will love him forever for taking the plunge!

In the years that followed, our lives practically revolved around church and the affiliated Christian school that I attended, but it was an environment that constantly left me feeling inadequate. It’s a feeling that is not foreign to many who grow up in church; however, I think it is often magnified in people like me. The people-pleaser in me wanted to cross all of my t’s and dot all of my i’s…but not for the right reasons. I wanted others to like me. I wanted them to think I was a good Christian girl who did all of the right things (on the outside) so they would include me.

But the truth is, I couldn’t live up to the expectations. I didn’t even understand why I was doing some of them. So I just became really good at faking it; and to be honest, I wasn’t even good at that.

“Our purpose is to please God, not people. He alone examines the motives of our hearts.” 1 Thessalonians 2:4

Then came the hurt…

I won’t go into great detail, because kids do dumb things. They shouldn’t have to relive them forever, and we are all still friends to this day.

However, during my sophomore year of high school, a friend of mine became upset  with me and started a rumor that I had done something scandalous, especially for a Christian school. It wasn’t true…but people believed it. For weeks, nobody would speak to me, even my closest friends.

Just writing this reminds me of the way I felt and has convicted me of my own guilt. How many times do we believe something that’s not true simply because it’s scandalous?  (food for thought))

Thank goodness we didn’t have social media back then. I can only imagine how this would have spiraled out of control had there been an instagram, facebook, or twitter added to an already toxic situation. It’s no wonder kids are depressed and angry now with the ability to inflict emotional pain for all the world to see at someone else’s finger tips.

The people-pleaser in me was devastated. I could no more control what people believed about me than I could control my biological father not wanting to be part of my life.

“If you live for the approval of others, you will die by their rejection.” – Rick Warren

So I focused on something I could control…

At this point, it was the early 90’s. While the fashion was really quite awful, we still had the same pressure to look a certain way that kids have in 2016. Everyone wanted to be 90210, and it didn’t help I went through a chubby stage while all of my friends were petite and could buy the cute clothes that passed dress inspection. (tall girls with boobs, I get you!!)

To this day, I’m not exactly sure what led me to stop eating, but I honestly don’t think it was any one thing. In fact, I haven’t even told this part of my story to many who didn’t walk through it with me. Partially, because I’m afraid of what people will think….and partially, because I don’t want to put ideas in impressionable minds. The hell I went through called “anorexia” is not a place I would wish on anyone. It’s not a solution, and it has long-lasting effects. Some permanent.

But it happened….and it consumed 5 years of my life.

What started out as a need to fit in and impress people turned into an avalanche of all the pent up emotions throughout the years…and it almost killed me. I thank God every day He brought me out of it, but not once have I wished it didn’t happen. It took me to a place of complete dependence on Him, and it made me identify and face what led me there in the first place. I am who I am because of where I have been.

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives..” Genesis 50:20

Maybe you’ve been through traumatic events in your life as well…events that created the people-pleaser that lies inside of you. Maybe you are going through one now. I see you. I understand. It’s hard, but it’s worth the fight against it.

We are all uniquely gifted. Different talents, different shapes, different sizes.

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I set you apart…” Jeremiah 1:4

We need to start embracing those things that make us special and stop worrying about what others think about them. As long as we are good with Jesus, then we are good. Claim it. Own it. And don’t forget it. He’s got us.

“The more I fill myself with God’s Truth, the less I need validation from others.” – Lysa TerKeurst

Christmas: The Most Wonderful Time of Year…or is it?

When the most magical time of year doesn’t seem so magical…maybe we should listen to the movies after all.

The holiday season has just begun, and I’m already tired.

It’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, right? But the mere thought of decking the halls and fighting the crowds makes me want to crawl under the covers and resurface only after the ball drops in Times Square.

Now, maybe you are Cindy Lou Who and radiate the Christmas spirit all year long; and if that’s the case, yay you! Please feel free to come to my house and radiate all day long. I will not stop you…and may even hand you the lights.

But some of us need help. (And by some of us, I still mean me.)

I’m not going to lie. Every year at this time, I get cranky. I’m all Thanksgiving-ed out, the kids are jacked up on caffeine and sugar, and all I can think of is the enormous list of things that need to be done. And don’t get me started on the lights that mysteriously stop working from year to year. I just love that. 

Bah-humbug.

Let’s face it, Moms. Our children’s happiness rests solely in our hands! Whether Christmas is a success or failure depends entirely on us. One wrong move, and our kiddos are going to therapy!

Or not.

But isn’t that how we feel? We put this enormous unattainable pressure on ourselves to make this the biggest and grandest Christmas of them all and completely wear ourselves out doing it. There’s nothing less fun than when we try to force the fun, believe me I know. I usually have this idea in my head of how it’s going to go….and hell hath no fury like a mother who doesn’t get her picture perfect holiday.

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving. Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We’re all in this together.” – National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

I mean, just how many “traditions” does one family actually need? Talk about pressure! After years of collecting traditions like coffee mugs,  (those sentimental blog posts and creative pins will get you every time) I started asking myself why? Am I creating lifelong memories for my family to pass down to their children…or am I trying to impress other moms who are just as tired as I am.

After giving it some thought, I realized many of the “traditions” we had were merely checking boxes.  They didn’t breathe life into our family or make happy memories. It became more about creating the “perfect Christmas” than about celebrating Jesus and our time together as a family. Bottom line, it was stressing me out; and when mama ain’t happy…nobody’s happy.

“He puzzled and puzzled til his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. Maybe Christmas, he thought doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps…means a little bit more!” – How the Grinch Stole Christmas

And guess what. I found out that no one even cared about half of the “traditions” anyway! Here I was stressing over fitting it all in so we could “Save Christmas” that I was totally missing what really mattered to my family.

When I took the time to sit down and find out what that was, I realized it was more about “Quality over Quantity.” It’s not how many traditions we have or how many presents we buy….

  • It’s making the traditions we have count. Quality time together doing something we all enjoy. And that’s different for every family! You may enjoy baking Christmas cookies…and we may enjoy going “Light Criticizing.” (don’t judge…it’s a perfectly good holiday tradition) 
  • It’s making the gifts we buy count. The older our children get, the more expensive the toys; so they know they may open fewer gifts…but they also know they will enjoy them longer.
  • It’s making the memories we make count. The more we schedule, the less fun we have. The best holiday memories I have are of the unplanned moments…the people…the love.

“That’s what Christmas memories are made from. They’re not planned, they’re not scheduled, nobody puts them in their Blackberry, they just happen.” – Deck the Halls

I don’t want the only holiday memories my children have to be of their crazy mom trying to force the magic. I want it to be magical because it truly is a magical time of year when we let it.

Quality over Quantity…that’s what I want. Now if I could just get rid of the Elf…..

“Just remember the true spirit of Christmas lies in your heart.” – Santa Claus, The Polar Express