Blog
A Smaller Holiday Still Counts
Acelli Crippen-Kok, LPC-S, Cedar Park, Texas. November 2022. About two minutes to read.
Imagine a holiday where the pie came from a store, one tradition quietly didn’t happen, and the only person who’d have noticed was you. Now imagine you’re fine with that. Out of reach? Maybe, but worth a try? Oh, absolutely!
Because if your December looks anything like most Decembers, somebody has to find the stockings, somebody has to make the pie, somebody has to keep the peace at the table, and somebody has to look happy in the pictures. That somebody is usually you, which means you’re usually last on your own list. That part isn’t okay with me.
Who said perfect?
Somewhere along the road, we were taught the holidays are a test, and the woman in the kitchen is the one taking it. Was that your idea? I doubt it, since you were busy wrapping.
Pictures set the bar. The table in the magazine, the tree in somebody’s feed, that one year everything went right…and you’ve been trying to repeat it ever since. None of them shows the three days of prep, or the sink afterward, or you at the sink.
I wrote a whole post about giving up on perfect. I meant every word of it. Perfectly imperfect is where I live now. December doesn’t get a pass either.
Pictures don’t eat
A holiday with one thing dropped is still the holiday. Store-bought pie is still pie. A card that goes out in January still gets read. (Maybe even more carefully!) People remember the year the turkey was late and everybody ate crackers on the floor. Has anybody, ever, brought up the year the napkins matched? I didn’t think so.
If the whole pile has you doing the math in your head in the grocery store line, nothing is wrong with you. The list is too long. Let’s shorten it.
This year’s challenge
The challenge this year is a subtraction. Pick one thing on the list that only you would miss and let it go for one year, if you’re up for it. Then see who notices, if anybody does. I have a feeling it won’t be many. A smaller holiday is perfectly okay. Yes, yours too. When you’re ready, request a time or write to me.
On solid ground,
Acelli