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http:// --> Ashland, Oregon HOME Valley & State Sports Nation & World Opinion/Editorial Classifieds Business Columnists Local Issues Obituaries Weather Archive Revels Etcetera Backpage Hot Topics Most Viewed Forum Photo Galleries Video Readers Polls O-Zone Online Games Movie Preview Special Sections Real Estate Guide Menu Guide Shakespeare Subscribe Contact Us Rate Card Place an Ad Top Galleries: January 8, 2007 The Holiday Hard Stuff By Jennifer Margulis Tidings Correspondent Jennifer Margulis Archives Monday December 4th Monday December 11th Monday December 18th Tuesday December 26th Monday January 8th Monday January 15th Monday January 22nd "I'm just afraid that this will be the last Christmas that they believe in Santa," my husband James said sadly. "I just want it to be fun for them. And special." These were the first conciliatory words from James all evening. Santa was running late and we were frantically wrapping presents, stuffing stockings, and placing surprise ornaments on the tree. Every time we passed the kitchen table we took a bite of Santa's cookies. Santa wrote a note in response to 5-year-old Athena's, thanking her for the cookies, praising her and her siblings for being good, and suggesting our 3-year-old stop sneaking sugar. Now that our kids were in bed, we adults should have been enjoying these Christmas preparations. But we weren't. James was having something akin to an anxiety attack, and I was starting to feel like I wanted to cut December 25th out of the calendar. My foul mood had started earlier in the day, after being awakened at dawn by my children, who were eager to know how many days were left until Christmas, who had a deluge of last minute present requests (after refusing for weeks to hint at what they might want from Santa), and who were all voicing their needs in high-pitched whines. "I hate Christmas. Next year I'm going away," I said to them grumpily. "I'm skipping the whole thing." "How can you say that?" James asked in a hurt voice when they were out of earshot. "It's one thing to say it to me, but not to the children. What if I said I didn't want to celebrate Hanukkah?" But on Hanukkah, which we celebrate in a haphazard way, there's no gift giving. Instead, we light candles, sing the traditional Hebrew incantations, and eat traditional foods. This year we had potato latkes and doughnuts dripping in oil. We invited friends over to share the candlelight and the meals. And, as is our custom, we exchanged poems instead of presents. There wasn't much to do to prepare for each night of Hanukkah except for putting candles into the menorah and cooking. My children didn't expect hundreds of presents, and since the holiday is as much for me as it is for them, I didn't worry about whether they'd be happy. Christmas, on the other hand, was feeling very stressful. It involves a lot of things I don't like: spending too much money on plastic toys made in China by laborers in substandard factory conditions, wasting paper to wrap presents. No matter how many times we read Dr. Seuss's "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" or "The Bernstein Bears' Christmas Tree" it always comes down to presents. Christmas Eve we invariably stress: did we buy enough toys? Will the kids be happy? But maybe the anxiety is really about our own childhood baggage, and since I didn't celebrate Hanukkah as a child, I don't have difficult memories associated with it. After my parents divorced they still celebrated Christmas together for the sake of the children. My father would express his anxiety by manically throwing away wrapping paper while we were still opening our gifts. I would have a lump in my throat all morning, awkward around my parents and feeling guilty for something I couldn't define. And I would feign excessive enthusiasm for each gift, as if showing gratitude would prove to my parents that I was a good child, and perhaps even motivate them to love each other again. The only part of Christmas that I remember without ambivalence was how my dad would awaken early to go to the bagel shop in Newton Centre, coming home with a dozen warm bagels and a tub of hand whipped cream cheese. For James, an only child, the living room was covered with presents. He has fond memories of the mountains of gifts but his yearly anxiety tells a different story. The Christmases when he was four to nine were the years after his mother, who had a drinking problem, divorced his father so she could live as a single woman in the swinging Seventies. Being a mom was not her first priority. The holidays were like make up time. A few months later, she would go on a cleaning frenzy with a trash bag, picking up each new toy and suggesting he throw it away. The kids wake us at dawn. "He came! He really came!" They marvel at the bulging stockings and the presents and the day is a success. I hope their childhood memories won't be as fraught as mine. Current Comments: Don't you worry about what your children will write about you when they grow up? My two boys are young men now. They had a lovely childhood and Christmas was always a time of celebration and joy. I certainly don't want them exposing our family secrets or writing about me--and I was a single mother too--the way you write about your parents and your in-laws. Shame on you. Janet Mardi - North Carolina - January 9th, 12:52 AM There is nothing wrong with telling your truth. Good for you, Jennifer! In fact, maintaining a conspiracy of silence on issues such as a parent�s alcoholism or anxiety can be damaging to the child, the parent, and their relationship. Furthermore, not all parents are as worried about their faults coming to light! Sue - Portland, OR - January 9th, 8:14 PM Here's the fix that works for us: Start your child with one present on their very first Christmas. Get them one thing that they will love and then take them to pick out one thing that they get to give to a charity or needy child. Christmas should not be about stress and consumption. It should be about sharing and love of family or chosen families. It takes effort no doubt. Especially when the kids start comparing with their friends. But as a wise one once says, "Love wins. Love always wins." Rebecca - Ashland - January 10th, 12:29 PM I'm in my twenties and I don't know anyone my age who has good feelings about Christmas. Maybe it's because so many of us have a much lower standard of living than our baby boomer parents (making it really financially stressful). Or maybe it's because we were over-indulged as kids making Christmas celebrations feel sort of like eating too many twinkies. Whatever the case, I don't know a single person my age who doesn't feel relieved when the whole deal is over each year. Brianne Goodspeed - Los Angeles, CA - January 14th, 11:31 PM I guess we pass our fond and not so fond memories and traditions on to our children in spite of ourselves. Maybe the alcoholic mother was simply tryimg to recreate and pass on some of her good memories for her son. Nothing more or less. Who but she really knows her truth. susan buscaglia - atlanta, ga. - January 25th, 7:26 PM Leave a Comment: Advertisement: Advertisement: Paid Advertising: Debt Help Inkjet Printers Student Loans Water Filter Helzberg Diamonds Mortgage Calculator Security Systems Debt Relief Advertisement: Copyright © 2007 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers. All Rights Reserved. Del.icio.us