Perfect Christmas Memories

A friend of mine from college posted this on facebook this week

I should have known this morning, when the dog stole my toothbrush, that it was going to be a bad day and I should just go back to bed. I worked my tail off all day trying to get things ready for the kids to decorate the tree tonight. It is the only night this week that my husband was really able to help us. You know that we had problems with the stand last night. We thought we fixed it. And you know I had problems with the lights today. I fixed that. Today I was able to get all the tedious beaded garland on, the red Christmas balls on, and the numerous white crocheted snowflakes on. All while the kids were at school. I felt pretty good about myself. After school, we visited family, my oldest did her homework, I got the dishes done, I fed my kids a nutritious dinner (leftovers), I got them bathed, all by 6:30. We started decorating the tree, and then my husband got home to join us. We had Christmas music going, drinking a little Braum's eggnog. Everything was great. AND THEN THE TREE FELL ON MY YOUNGEST. It couldn't have fallen on top of the larger child or one of the adults. It couldn't have just toppled to the floor. It had to fall on the four-year-old. She is fine. A little scratch on her chin is all. Her new ornament, a glass unicorn, was broken, but really nothing else. I feel pretty much defeated at this point. Unfortunately, I have a lot to do before I can go to bed. Hopefully the wires on the toppled tree will not short out and burn the house down while we are sleeping.

My heart hurts for her, because I sympathize and understand her desire to create a sweet Christmas memory for her children.  She is a good Mom so of course she wants to create lasting good memories with her girls. That is an admirable desire, and to have it all fall apart when she worked so hard. . . it is almost too much.

I read that on my phone as I was leaving work.  Thinking about it on my way home, I admit, it made me cry.  What do you do when your best desires and hard work come crashing down like that?  My friend is a pretty level headed person, she knows to laugh at herself, and I expect some day this will be a funny story. But it isn’t funny yet.

Here is the deal.  Perfect Christmas memories, the kind you see on TV, or movies, or that you remember through the perfect haze of memory are very very difficult to orchestrate. Trust me on this because I am really something of a genius at setting them up, and I am the first person to say that it is exhausting and thankless work, and the potential for disaster and tears is in direct proportion to the effort you put into it. 

So what do you do? Do you give up?  Stop trying? Just let it be?  I don’t have answers here.  I still put forth all the effort, every year.  I have learned to laugh about the mishaps though.  The fact that my boys’ favorite Christmas is what we call the year of projectile vomiting has a certain humbling effect on me.  In the meantime my suggestion is to be easy on yourself, hug your little ones close and tell them that you love them, because they don’t stay small for long.  Maybe holding them close while you still can is its own perfect memory.