Quietly shifting the focus from getting to giving
Last year, for the first time, the five of us — my husband Jesse, my stepsons, Chile and Tripp, my son, Indy, and I — had Christmas morning for the first time in our own house.
In the past we’ve done Christmas morning at my parents’ house or Jesse’s house. So, last year was special.
I wanted our Christmas morning to be like mine were as a kid. My parents were extremely generous and my dad would take his time handing out the presents one at a time. We’d all watch each other open our gifts. The whole process would take a couple of hours.
We recreated that last year, and it was great.
But I’d been so focused on giving the boys the same kind of Christmas that I received, I had forgotten that this wasn’t their only Christmas.
In addition, the stepsons had a full Christmas morning at their mom’s house and, as per tradition, the six grandkids had a full Christmas at Jesse’s parents’ house when the family got together for dinner.
And while it was lovely and I’m exceedingly grateful — and we recognize the extreme privilege and the fact that this is the most first-world of problems — I felt it was too much.
So much stuff. So much spending. They could hardly remember what they got at one Christmas, let alone three.
Another thing that happened over the holidays last year, was that one of my best friends, Shivaan, flew out on Boxing Day to hang out and help with Indy. “Let me know what I can do to help,” she said.
And I knew just the thing. With Jesse’s blessing, while Chile and Tripp were at their mom’s house, she held Indy while I went through their room meticulously, pulling out all the toys, games and trinkets they ignored or didn’t play with anymore.
Had they been there, they would have been horrified to see the bags and bags of stuff hitting Goodwill or the garbage. But I was careful to choose things I knew they’d never miss, and they never once realized it was gone. Their room was clean, and they could see the toys they loved again. I was even more resolved. Next year, there will be less spending, less stuff.
This year, as usual (bless her), my mom asked me weeks in advance what the boys wanted for Christmas. And my answer was to tell her that what they needed was pants (the three boys constantly need new pants), and that I really didn’t want any more stuff in the house, especially stuff they’d play with twice and abandon.
So I asked her to get them experiential gifts. No grandparent really wants their grandbabies to open up clothes and a piece of paper, but my mom was game and understanding. So when Chile and Tripp open their gifts from my parents, they’ll find H&M jogging pants, and passes to World Waterpark at West Edmonton Mall. Sure, it won’t be the shiniest, hottest new toy. But they’ll be totally stoked about a day on the water slides, and it’s something we can enjoy as a family.
We’re taking the same approach under our tree this year. There will be gifts, for sure, but we’re scaling back big time in favour of a snowboarding weekend in the mountains for the whole family. It’s something we will all truly love (although, Indy’s not quite big enough for the hill yet), and we’ll remember it and appreciate it. It drives home the point that the holidays are more about family togetherness than they are about material things.
We’d also like to incorporate a community or charity aspect into our Christmas morning or Christmas Eve. Last year the boys picked out presents for Indy, and Indy got them presents, too. Instead of getting presents for each other, this year I’d like the children to do something kind for each other, and then for our neighbours or community. And we’ll make sure we do that before the present-opening begins.
They’re kids. It’s natural for them to love presents — I’m 33 years old and I still love presents. (And to their credit, their lists this year are by no means extravagant, and mostly quite practical.)
But I’d like to nurture their love for helping others and giving back, too. All that’s left to do now is run it by Santa. I’m sure he’ll be on board.