Dear Mom,
I can’t fathom how you managed to pull off Christmas as a single mom with six kids. Honestly, it’s December 11, and I’m already running on fumes!
You often say, “I don’t know how you juggle everything these days,” but come on, Mom—you were basically managing a baseball team while I’m over here with just my two! Working full-time while raising six kids and crafting that magical Christmas spirit without the luxury of the Internet? That’s mind-boggling!
Last night, as I lay awake organizing my lengthy holiday to-do list, it hit me just how much of a superhero you transformed into each December. Here’s how I see the comparison:
December 1
Me: I have my two little ones write their wish lists to Santa. The next morning, I tackle a couple of writing assignments, squeeze in some online shopping, and dash to Target for a few essentials. I manage to sneak in some Christmas shopping from the couch while balancing homework and dance classes. I’m almost done, aside from a few bits I’ll hand off to my partner. He comes home, we whip up dinner, and we await the arrival of our packages over the next few weeks.
You: You take on the challenge of six unique Christmas lists (four girls, two boys, each with their own distinct tastes), all while driving your overworked VW Rabbit to drop us off at two different schools before heading to your 9-5. During lunch, it’s a mad dash to the mall for a 45-minute shopping sprint before heading back to work. After hours, you’re shuttling us to endless soccer and football practices, squeezing in more shopping (because you’re still light years away from completing that first list), cooking a satisfying meal for all seven of us, and then staying up late to hide presents in our already crowded home. Each morning, you rise and repeat.
December 15
Me: By now, we’ve made a quick trip to Home Depot for a modest yet nice Christmas tree. We enjoy a quiet evening together, decorating it while sipping hot cocoa and munching on candy canes. Hanukkah preparations are still on my mind, but since I’m ahead with my shopping, I can focus on finding gifts for friends and teachers.
You: You skip the friend and teacher gifts—who has the time or budget, right? You somehow manage to take us all to the neighborhood tree lot and get us to agree on the “perfect” tree without going broke. You decorate it tastefully while keeping the family heirloom ornaments from breaking. You spend late nights wrapping and organizing gifts, all while trying to keep track of who gets what, ensuring everything remains even.
And somehow, you still make time for cookie baking with three or four of us, wrangling us all around the kitchen island while we bicker over who gets to use the silver ball candy sprinkles first. All this while John Denver and Andy Williams serenade us in the background, and you sing along, blissfully unaware of the avalanche of holiday parties, school programs, and gifts still on your radar.
December 24
Me: I book us a table at our favorite restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner, because let’s face it, I’m tired! After a season of holiday functions, I’m ready to unwind with a nice meal and a glass of wine. We’ll drive around to see Christmas lights, return home to leave cookies and milk for Santa, and settle in for a cozy night by the fire.
You: While we’re enjoying dinner, you’re in the kitchen preparing a feast fit for a family of seven. You squeeze in last-minute shopping for forgotten items, and before you know it, it’s time to wrangle six energetic kids into bed. After spending half the night darting from hiding spots to the tree, you manage to pile gifts and fill stockings to the brim—all while remaining hyper-aware of any noise from four different bedrooms.
Yet, by Christmas morning, you pull it off. You somehow personalize the holiday for each of us, delivering exactly what we asked for and showering us with gifts we likely didn’t even deserve. You impart the true spirit of the season amidst the chaos, creating warm memories that we will cherish forever.
And you do all of this with a smile. You tackle it all with minimal sleep and virtually no complaints, embodying the strength of a woman who tirelessly crafts the perfect Christmas for her family, all while often spending the holiday alone as we celebrate with Dad and his family.
I know you’ll downplay the effort, insisting, “You just do what you have to do.” Maybe you don’t see it through my eyes (and I might exaggerate just a touch), or perhaps the joy of the season has allowed you to forget the juggling act and exhaustion that came with it.
But I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten. As I rush around in the coming weeks, I promise to focus on the joyous moments, just like you did, and to infuse my children’s Christmas with the same magic you always created for me.
Merry Christmas, Mom!