What Do You Expect This Christmas? (Part 1)

Expectations. The holiday season can be a minefield of emotions, can it not? So many hopes. So many fears. So many disappointments. So much to get done. So little time.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering, “Why can’t things be like they used to?”

It’s true that life was simpler way back when -- smaller social circles, fewer distractions, more stability. But do you remember how things really were? 

Photo: C Imes

You’ve watched children open presents. They’re too young to have a well-developed filter. Their faces show everything. “Thanks, Grandma,” through clenched teeth with sidelong glances at Mom and raised eyebrows. “Wow! How did you know?!” with squeals of delight. “Oh. I have this one already” (trying not to cry).

We have all been the child who didn’t get what she really wanted for Christmas. And many of us have been the parent who tried our darndest to select the right gift, only to have our child give us “that look” or melt into tears.

I was “that child” when I was about 10 years old. Mom was in the dining room wrapping presents. When I walked into the room she scrambled to hide something under some loose wrapping paper. But it was too late. I had seen it. A big bag of … bird seed. I remember being puzzled. Bird seed? Why is mom hiding bird seed? It didn’t take long to conclude that I must be getting a bird feeder. And in the time between Mom’s wrapping day and my opening presents, I became obsessed with birds. I read about them. I watched for them outside. I thought about where to put the bird feeder in the back yard so I could see it out my window. Birds had never been on my radar before, but now they dominated my thinking. And then the big day came – time to open presents. I eyed the pile of gifts until I found the one that was sure to be my bird feeder. They had saved it until last. I ripped open the paper with a twinkle in my eye. They couldn’t fool me. I had figured it out. I opened the box . . . and sat there, stunned. It was a sleeping bag. I think I cried. I was so confused. “Mom, what about the bird seed?” Now it was her turn to be surprised. “Bird seed? That was for Grandpa and Grandma’s bird feeder.” She never imagined that her little trick to throw me off course would be so effective. The sleeping bag was beautiful, covered with rainbows and sailboats and puffy clouds. But I was devastated.

I’m grown up now. I don’t cry about presents any more. But that doesn’t make Christmas any easier. Not only do I have my own expectations to manage, but I’m also affected by the expectations of everyone in the family. The grown-up side of Christmas can be intense – the cooking and planning and shopping and decorating and fitting extra parties and Secret Santa and evening programs into a schedule that was full to begin with – the extra family time with its range of dynamics and loss of routine. I don’t get to do as I see fit because half a dozen other adults are in on the decisions and multiple calendars have to be considered.

Our Christmas holiday doesn’t take place on an empty stage. It shows up in the middle of Act 2 in this drama that is life with a whole cast of human characters with all their foibles – the addict, the perfectionist, the narcissist, the chronically anxious, the workaholic, the loner, the argumentative, the jokester. Most of us can identify ourselves (and our relatives!) somewhere on that list. And the way we imagine the ideal Christmas is often far from what actually plays out.

Those two family members refuse to celebrate together, forcing us to choose sides. This one is likely to be in a foul mood. I’ll be high strung. She’ll be withdrawn. He won’t offer to help. They’ll be picky eaters. She’ll drink too much. He’ll complain loudly. My feet will hurt. We’ll spend too much. They’ll raise their eyebrows.

Is it any wonder why some of us dread the holidays?

Photo: Virginia Howard

Christmas doesn’t take place on an empty stage. It shows up in the middle of life at full throttle.

This shouldn't surprise us. Even the first Christmas was no different. Sweep away that image of a peaceful nativity. We know better. Is life with a newborn ever a “silent night”? And giving birth in a crowded house with distant relatives and their livestock is hardly a picture of “peace on earth.”

The first Christmas had more than its fair share of disappointments and unmet expectations. I'll talk about those in Part 2 of this Advent series. In the meantime, ask yourself this question: What am I expecting this Christmas?