Best Mom Tip #184: Kill Santa

I'm kidding, I don't really think you have to kill Santa-- I just thought it was a funny title. I have an old post called "naked laundry" and you would not believe how many hits that thing still gets. I like to imagine how disappointed some guy is that it's actually just about a frazzled mom and does not include pictures. Or maybe he's grateful it doesn't include pictures.

Anyway, I did really want to talk about Christmas and some things I've been thinking about around our house lately. This Christmas will be the 10th one that Jay and I have celebrated as parents. Over the years we have settled into some traditions and ideas that I'm really happy with and others that are still not exactly what I had in mind.

Early on we decided that, as Christians, it was our responsibility to be intentional with what we teach our children during this time of the year. Our first decision to that end was that we would not be using Santa in our holiday celebrations. Not because Santa is evil or because we hate the joy of children or because we like to flaunt our super-spirituality in front of our friends and family, but because we felt that Santa overshadowed one of our easiest opportunities to teach our children about God's love.

Every year we make a point of telling them that God loved us so much that he gave us all the precious gift of His son. Jesus came "to seek and to save the lost"--to point an arrow back toward God so that we would always know exactly how to find Him. To celebrate being on the receiving end of such a gift, we choose to give gifts to the people we love and cherish every day. Santa, while fun and jolly, made that message harder to explain to kids already distracted by new stuff. So we just don't use ole St. Nick and that has worked pretty well in our family.

Eventually, we focused in on a sort-of two pronged approach to celebrating Christmas with our kids. We attempt to limit their materialism in order to encourage them to become generous givers and we also try to give them opportunities to do for others outside our family as much as possible.

Limiting materialism is quite an uphill challenge. Being Santa-free helps because we don't have to make up excuses for why he doesn't bring super awesome stuff, but there is still a temptation to give over-the-top presents just to see their faces light up. But we didn't want to experience a Christmas morning that was just a gluttony of gifts with no meaning and so we have spent years attempting to counteract the greedy advertising fliers and crazy store displays that our kids see almost every day during late November and December.

A few years ago my friend Camilyn mentioned that her kids get three presents because that was how many Jesus got from the Wise Men. I thought that was both hilarious and practical so Jay and I have implemented this rule in our house, too. Each kid gets one "big" gift and two smaller ones on Christmas morning. Honestly, with four kids it also makes it easier to be relatively equitable.  We still can't control gifts given by others, especially grandparents who have their own need to give equitably among grandchildren, but it's a start.

I also have the children help pick out the gifts we give to their cousins and grandparents. I want them to understand that we choose gifts others will like and spend our money on those we love in order to serve them, not because they will give us presents in return. I hope some of that idea sinks in.

Doing for others is pretty simple while our children are so young. We participate in the Operation Christmas Child program every year and our kids carefully pick out the gifts to go into the box for a kid their age in a developing nation. They pick out toothbrushes and balls and, with our boys, there is always a dinosaur I have to cram into that little box. It's a family outing that they really enjoy and look forward to every year-even my 3-year-old who doesn't like to share anything. I hope to add other service traditions as they get older, but we will have to see where their hearts and interests lie.

By no means do we experience a Christmas completely free of our cultural influences, and I don't think that we need to try to do so. Even our date for celebrating Christmas is likely based on tradition rather than fact so deciding that there is only one right way is a little arbitrary (and silly). We have a Christmas tree even though I know that it has far more to do with the desire of European pagans to remember that spring would come again than it does Christ. Our children's gifts are hidden until we reveal them on Christmas morning purely for the element of surprise. We hang stockings and fill them on Christmas Eve for no other reason than that it's fun. We even make cookies, but instead of leaving them out for Santa Claus, we take them to the police and fire stations near our house on Christmas Eve.

My point is not that you should kill Santa, but rather that we should all really look at our traditions and actions during this month and make sure that they are teaching our children the message we want them to hear. December, more than any other month, gives us great opportunities as parents to share our values and belief systems and have those lessons stick.

Most importantly, we should continue to pray for guidance about what we do and say around these little ears concerning Christmas.

As parents, we actually already have their undivided attention about this holiday. They know that there will be lights and cookies and TOYS from every adult they know. They are eager to talk about Christmas and what they remember from last year and what they hope for in this holiday to come.

Our children will remember our traditions from year to year and hold them sacred in their hearts well into adulthood because they are (hopefully) accompanied by good memories of excitement and fun. Let's attempt to instill meaningful traditions that shape our children into caring adults who value their fellow man and seek to do good in the name of God.  I think it will make for a merrier Christmas for us all. 

Best Mom Tip #183: Embrace this moment

Hey, look, I have a blog! I clearly have not written in a while, largely due to lots of children, a messy house, and nothing terribly funny to say. And, honestly, today is no different. What I have to say today isn't particularly entertaining, but it is personal and relevant to me and I thought it might be to someone else as well.

I had a revelation the other day about myself and my own insecurities as a woman, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend and a mother.

I realized that my feelings of inadequacy and personal failure are an insult to the blessings and gifts of this moment in my life. My comparisons to other (and in my mind, more successful) women belittle the joy and peace that I experience daily. My dissatisfaction and need to justify my life choices to an unnamed, unidentified outside audience are an insult to the principles that guided my decisions in the first place.

It was quite the thought process for a Friday morning.

See, I was a teacher and I loved my job. Through a series of furloughs, changes to family childcare leave policy, and frozen salaries my school district made it difficult for me to retain my job and have another baby (which was unfortunate because 4 years ago I was pregnant with two preschoolers and had to make some tough decisions.)

It is hard to explain to people who have never felt as I did, but I really wanted another child-I didn't feel like our family was complete and I love the chaos of children. I don't actually like babies, which tends to surprise people, but I do love kids. I felt like there was a hole in our family and so Jay and I decided to have our third child.

But then I had to decide what to do with my career. As I said, I loved my job. I was good at it. It gave me great stories at parties. It was fulfilling and entertaining. I felt useful and productive and of value. It certainly wasn't all fun, but it was interesting. But that year the kids and I got the swine flu and it was scary and stressful getting coverage for my classes and making lesson plans for substitutes while taking a toddler to get chest x-rays and standing outside the room while he screamed because I was pregnant and couldn't be near the radiation. I worried about those kinds of moments if I added yet another kid.

For months I struggled with what I should do about my career. Our district had eliminated part time positions so my choices were pretty straightforward-full time work or no work. They both scared me. I was worried about parenting three kids effectively. I was worried about my students suffering if I returned to work after the summer with 3 kids, one of whom was 6 weeks old. I was worried about being a good wife and friend and daughter and sister if I had all of these other responsibilities pulling at me.

So I prayed. To those of you who don't share my faith, that may sound silly or even pointless. For those of you who do, you probably wonder why I didn't start praying months earlier. I don't know why it took me a while to remember to ask God for direction, but it probably had to do with all the conflicting thoughts swirling around in my head as I tried to keep my plates spinning in my daily life. What I began to hear, after many nights asking for direction, was God calling me to stay home with my children for a while.

I hesitate to share that last sentiment because it is such a loaded topic. In no way do I think that God wants all moms of small children to quit their jobs. Nor do I think every family needs a person in the home at all times. What I do think is that God had things to teach me that I was unable to hear when my head was full of Comparative Essays, valuable multiple choice responses, and AP Exam dates.

I had put too much of my worth into what I did for a living. I valued too much the praise and encouragement I received as a teacher. I, for the first time in my life, was left alone with my thoughts with no way to escape hard questions about my purpose, my impact on the world around me, and my meaning in this life.

Over the last three and a half years I have learned to be far more patient with my children than I ever thought I could be. I have had to constantly reevaluate my priorities and, honestly, I have spent a lot of time failing at being a stay-at-home mom. That failure has taught me a lot about myself.

I have struggled with a sense of inadequacy. What are my college degrees for if all I do is change diapers?

I have struggled with how I am viewed by the world. Just because I have 4 kids and stay home does not mean I am uncertain about how birth control works, but thank you for asking.

I have struggled with my sense of self and appearance. It is hard to feel beautiful when you wear primarily work out clothes day in and day out. Unless you're a really hot fitness instructor, I guess, but I'm not so that doesn't really apply.

I have struggled with a sense of insignificance. Where is my big mark on the world if I only see 5 other people a day?

And now on to the revelation part.

If God Almighty called me to this moment in my life, it is disobedient and disrespectful to believe it is "less than" simply because my culture tells me I should be great at all things to all people at all times. 

I will not be winning any awards any time soon, but I have grown as a person and shepherded 4 little lives into being with more peace than I could have used while I taught. And I have spent hours on the phone with my sister-in-law while her husband was deployed overseas talking about kids and parents and clothing-options-after-babies that I would never have experienced if I had been in the classroom all day. I have had conversations with my mom that I would not have had without the time to wander toward meaningful discussion during a phone call. I have distracted my friend Cheryl from working in the middle of the day and kept up with the details of a friend I might not have if we were both working and raising babies at the same time. OK, I spend a lot of time on the phone, apparently, probably because I am starved for adult conversation.

The point is, I am at peace with my choices. I don't know what happens next. Do I return to the classroom as my children are getting a little older? Do I return to school and create a different career path for myself? Do I stay in this pattern for a few more years? I truly don't know the answer right now. But I pray that I will remember that if I follow what God would have me do, I need not worry about my purpose.

I will be living it.