Force bulbs, Not Fun, for Christmas
The wind and snow outside was howling, there was very little left in the “kitty” for Christmas gifts. Our (half) of a duplex was for sale, and the stress of trying to keep it clean ( & ready to “show”) with two little ones was making me (and everyone around me) crazy and miserable.
For weeks, we’d been waiting for perspective buyers that never showed up, and trying to procure and make gifts for all the people in our extended families. (Cranky may have been an understatement there;) The pressure to sell, was mostly based on my extreme mommy desire to live in a regular neighborhood with sidewalks. So the kids could ride big wheels and not be run over by industrial trucks. (The duplex was on a small sidestreet 50% industrial 50% houses, dirt road, no sidewalks.- we loved the duplex- but the location just wasn’t great for the kiddos.)
At my local MOPS group that week- we had made these cool ornaments with just cinnamon and applesauce. It sounded like the solution to both my cranky-ness with my kids.. (we needed to have some fun together) and my minimal budget for Christmas gifts. I bundled everyone one up against the cold and headed out to buy bulk cinnamon and applesauce. Things went smoothly at the store, I should have known disaster was about to strike.
We arrived home, cold, tired and hungry. Everyone needed a nap. (Mommy included) This was not to be. Instead, I was on a mission. We were going to make ornaments and have fun together, or, (quite possibly) die trying.
I turned on the “Johnny Mathis Christmas album” .. put our matching aprons on and showed my 6 and 3 year old sons how to mix the applesauce and cinnamon into dough. It started off so innocently.
Right about the time I started feeling like a scene from a Christmas movie…I noticed rust colored clouds of cinnamon floating through the kitchen and into the living room. They settled into the mauve (read- light pink) carpet to create an insoluble dirty looking mess. Shouts of “Be careful!,” and ” Don’t get cinnamon on the carpet!” soon drowned poor Johnny, out. Chunks of cinnamon scented concrete were becoming “one” with the kitchen floor.
The pressure of making ornaments “fit to give” spread through me like a virus. I was soon- re-rolling the dough to make it smoother and took all the non-Christmas cookie cutters away so that we wouldn’t be making dinosaurs for Great Grandma’s tree. My oldest totally lost interest, and went to watch PBS. The youngest, continued on.
When all was finished, we were all still alive, so, I called it a win. Ornaments were drying in the oven, (to speed things up a bit.. I tend to do things a bit last minute;) The house, while dirty and freshly stained, smelled wonderful.
Then, I noticed strawberry colored patches popping up all over my youngest. His face, arms and hands were puffy and raw looking. Tears welled up in my eyes. I thought: “Great. No money… no gifts… the house is a mess and now the “baby” is sick!” I got scared. I called my husband home from work. I was pretty convinced I had killed the kid. NOT GOOD.
A quick trip to the urgent care center revealed a reaction to the cinnamon. A little bath in colloidal oatmeal and frequent slathering with hydrocortisone calmed the rash, but not my heart.
That night I cried myself to sleep, the tears and sobs were also prayers, worded and otherwise. I felt like a bad mother. I felt like an idiot and a failure. I couldn’t even just have a fun afternoon with my guys. I was sure I had ruined Christmas.
In the morning, I grabbed my coffee, and my Bible, while it was still quiet and the moonlight shown on the snow. I opened it to Luke. I read the Christmas story. I thought about Mary… so young… I wondered if she felt she was ready to be a mother. I wondered if she felt awful for not having things all ready for her child’s birth. They couldn’t even find a room to birth in. They ended up in a stable. Smelly animals surrounded them, hay poked her in the back, she didn’t even have a “proper” layette. I wondered how she felt.
But- there she was- the mother of The Christ Child. I flipped to the Easter story– and re-read that, too…the two stories were one. A light switch flipped on for me. The baby’s birth that I was trying so hard to honor, celebrate and share, perfectly. Had led to the Savior that I needed, yet again, so desperately. Much more desperately than sidewalks and bigwheels.
I felt like everything shuffled back into place. My priorities, lined up again. By the time the boys woke up, I was ready. We continued through the rest of our holiday with joy and rest. No more worrying over the gifts, we could do what we could do. That was all. No more worrying about creating perfect “Christmas memories” with the boys… we decided to just let them happen.
Every year- (my oldest two are 18 and 15 , now) we retell the story of the ornaments, and forced fun. We laugh, every year. Sure- I still get caught up in the hustle bustle and pressure to create a Martha Stewart Christmas scene….but then- inevitably, I get a whiff of cinnamon. And I remember. The baby in a manger- who grew to be savior…. and get back to the heart of Christmas…. till the next time, I need to be reminded.
“Dear Lord- I know that Christmas isn’t about packages and bows and gifts and decorations… but, I get sidetracked so fast, I barely know it’s happening till it’s nearly too late. Please God- help me to remember, help me to follow the star and be reminded of of the sacrifices you made- leaving heaven at God’s right hand.. to be born in amnager and die on a cross, so that the world could have peace, love and forgiveness. I love you Lord- and thank you, – oh- and lord- thnx that we can laugh at that Cinnamony Christmas.. and learn from it..amen…”
Oh— wondering about the title? I always remember too late that I WANT to force bulbs for my Christmas centerpiece one year…married nearly 20 years and have never remembered in time to actually do it;)
and: Merry Christmas- from The Solomon Family;)
Thanks for sharing this, be blessed.
Beautifully told story and a wonderful example. I thought I was the only kid with an allergy to cinnamon–hers is severe enough that we have to avoid any store area with cinnamon when out and I can’t make ANYTHING with cinnamon in it at home.
Your post took me from chaos to serenity all in one “sitting”. You learned some valuable and priceless lessons. Always remember that Joy was part of the Lord’s gift to us at Christmas and we mustn’t feel guilty for wanting to create it for those around us. Sometimes we just need to let go and let God. Would you agree?
Denise- I absolutely agree that 1) I learned lessons that have not been forgotten (well- except momentarily;) and 2) we need to let God do what He alone can do.
What is often difficult, is knowing the difference between creating joy for oters, and losing our joy (and theirs) by attempting to create a “perfect” experience. Sometimes the pressure to enjoy something…. makes the experinece less enjoyable. The line blurs- and I think it’s important to constantly re-calibrate, without guilt, to a right priority.
Oh……… that is me…… year after year I wear myself out trying to make it wonderful for everyone and usually end up being sick…Last year ER on Christmas morning…… this year I have treated myself like I try to treat everyone else and make this Christmas wonderful for me too……… I think I have accomplished my task, as I treated myself to a day off today…… I have rested and read and sorted some family pictures that needed to be given away……… I am the perftect Mary and Martha …….. I rush around and then Christmas morning I am so tired that I have trouble finding the energy to thank the Father for His gift of Jesus…………… I think this Christmas I will do better……….Merry Christmas x0x0x0x0x0x0x0
I used to be so busy my husband & kids felt neglected, too much money & time wasted on shopping, pre-occupation with decorations and baking… my husband got really turned off to Christmas. So I just had to learn to let things go and choose just enough that won’t interfere with our regular flow. Result is less stress and more peace.
Tracey,
You are adorable. I relate to this story. I made these ornaments last year with my daughter… different result however… no ER visit.
Tracey, the message I keep reading in the posts her at LWG and now yours is I am trying too hard. I am commited to making next year’s Christmas different. Thank you. Love you girl. Lynn 🙂
Hi Tracey,
I was wondering if it would be okay to use this devotion in my church’s women’s ministry newsletter? Can you write me and let me know as soon as you can.
LOVE this story. Hugs. Lynn