We were decorating the house for Christmas the other night, when my daughter suggested ordering pizza and decorating the tree while we ate. Even though we had leftovers to use up, I instantly said yes without hesitation. I mean, what could be better than your teenagers asking to hang with you and eat pizza with Christmas music in the background? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance.
I’m a “holiday pushover” and I make no apologies.
My kids know this about me: I’m a “yes” mom over the holidays. My kids will work that to no end, but I have zero regrets. None.
When we go to the grocery store, they know all holiday treats are fair game. Candy canes? Yep. Buttery cookies? Yes please. A hot cocoa with extra whipped cream from Starbucks on the way home from school? You bet your ass.
We are hella “basic” around the holidays and do all that holiday stuff. Matching Christmas pajamas happen every year. We drive around town looking at lights. And we go see all the holiday movies as soon as they come out — with buckets of popcorn.
They like to buy gifts for their friends and I hand over my money with pleasure. You can pull together some amazing presents from Target’s dollar spot. And more times than not, they ask if they can stay home the day before holiday break starts and I let them. It’s usually spent in our pajamas by the fireplace doing absolutely nothing.
This is not about spoiling my children; it’s about celebrating them. The holidays are the one time of year I say “yes” more than I say “no.”
And by breaking our routine and going rogue with our schedule, it forces me to slow down and take in the season. Without these extra treats, I have a feeling I’d plow through this time of year, rushing from one thing to the next simply to get it off my to-do list.
One of the reasons I couldn’t wait to have kids was so I could pour on the magic during the holidays. As a child, I always wanted to decorate early, to celebrate more, to make the season last as long as possible.
Now as an adult, my kids remind me every year that I can fulfill my own childhood wishes for them — and for me. When they ask if we can do something to celebrate the season, my response is typically, Why the hell not?
These holiday seasons with my kids are so good, but they are fleeting.
My children won’t be living under my roof much longer. My youngest will be 18 in five short years. I don’t know where life will take them. And I can pretty much guarantee they won’t always be in their childhood home to decorate our tree and ask if we can order pizza as we look at ornaments they’ve had since birth.
There will come a day when I’ll be walking through the grocery store alone, and I’ll see the holiday candies lined up on the shelf and miss seeing their hands reach for their favorite kind. Just the thought of that sad scenario makes me nauseous.
So, I’ll pack it all in now during these years they are with me.
Bring on the late nights of eating too much candy and watching three movies in a row.
I will let them attack the dollar spot and fill stockings for their friends.
I will take the time to try all the holiday-themed treats and let them throw a Christmas party with their besties. And I’ll do it without complaint. The fridge will be stocked with eggnog and I’ll put a few too many gifts under the tree.
All these things are reminders that I have this year to celebrate the holidays with my children. I’ll never take that for granted.
I’m going to do it up big from now until the end of year, even if it requires effort and sacrifice on my part. Because while I’m sure my kids will have many years of coming home for Christmas, they will pale in comparison to these years — the precious years when we all still share a home.
That’s all the reason I need to indulge and spoil my kids and I’ll never be sorry for being a little extra this time of year.
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