Adjusting Expectations: Holiday Edition
We’re supposed to be in Arizona right now.
We planned this trip months ago. An early Christmas with my in-laws. Specifically planned between Thanksgiving and Christmas so we could avoid the big travel days, save some money, and most importantly, hope to avoid getting sick.
But alas, we are sick. Sky started with a cough, then a fever, now is just on and off again miserable then happy with the only consistent thing being his snotty nose. G went to bed before him tonight, and thankfully my sore throat got better through the day.
We were hemming and hawing last night about whether we would go or not. The original plan was to wake up at 5 and go for a run (ok that was just my husband’s plan), leave for the airport shuttle at 7:45 to catch our 11am flight to sunshine and dry air.
Then last night Sky woke up 3 times before midnight, only happy being held in the recliner (presumably so he could breathe easier). At 2 am we made the decision with a tickle in each of our throats starting to grow and memories rushing back of those hard newborn days.
Then we were just sad. We haven’t been to Arizona since the Christmas before Covid. These Grandparents haven’t had a Christmas with Sky. It was disappointing to tell them we aren’t coming and disappointing to know we aren’t going. It’s disappointing to adjust expectations.
After sitting with the sad, bless my husband—he picked up a pen and a notecard and started writing things down. We adjusted our expectations. Instead of flying to be with family, we’d make his grandma’s rocky road and peanut clusters, the ones she used to send in a box to each of us at Christmas, with little compartments separated by tinfoil walls and a handful of mixed nuts too. I decided we’d make my mom’s peanut blossoms too. We pulled out Grandma Betty’s cookbook and found the recipes (along with a recipe that called for 12 boxes of jello, celery, and pineapple...)
We could go to Zoolights on a weekday and miss the crowds.
We could go to Seattle to check out the Talking Book library we’ve been wanting to take Sky to.
We could get a new Christmas tree. That’s the one that got me teared up.
You see, we hadn’t adjusted expectations two weeks ago when we went to get our tree. We have made it a tradition to drive to the forest and cut one down ourselves. But we have a toddler this year. So it meant we spent 3 hours in the car so that I could hold hands with Sky toddling on a forest road while Graham went and found and cut down a tree. We ate a quick snack and then got back in the car. It was a disappointing trip, and honestly—kind of a disappointing tree.
A disappointing tree that for some reason did not take on any water once we put it up in the house. I noticed a pile of pine needles at its base the other day and realized that just the smallest tap of a branch led to a rainfall of needles. It was bone dry—and honestly, a fire hazard, considering the proximity to our fireplace.
It was a sad Christmas tree, with 2 weeks to go till Christmas. It’s felt like a sad Christmas season—it got off on the wrong foot. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed. We haven’t even been wanting to listen to holiday music like we typically do.
So it’s a do over. We took down the tree today and plan to burn it for Solstice. We’ll get a new tree tomorrow. I did a big grocery run to Trader Joes (where I happen to find a cactus that came with a string of lights—perfect for a holiday where we missed the desert!). I also made a stop at Home Goods to get some holiday napkins and a throw pillow. I always hold back on buying holiday stuff and I think that’s a whole other essay to dig into on another day.
We adjusted our plans, and adjusted our expectations. My husband saw a big pile of lemons, and decided to make some holiday lemonade out of it. We’re all a little under the weather, but honestly, a forced staycation isn’t the worst thing in the world. We will make the most of it, even if it does mean that one or the other of us is going to bed before the toddler.
It’s Christmas season, and even though our plans changed, we can still make a choice for what we do with it. We are not a victim of our circumstances; we have agency.
This is parenthood: Plans change. Nannies call out. Kids get sick. We get sick. We make the best choices we can with the information that we have (which is often too much these days). We commiserate with friends. We call our parents. We feel our feelings—the sad ones and the happy ones—and help teach our kids to feel theirs too. We watch cheesy holiday movies and make nostalgic recipes.
And we adjust our expectations—for the stage we’re at, the circumstances we’re in, and with whatever the universe happens throws at us.
I hope your holiday is exactly what you expect—or adjust to. Tell me in the comments about how you’ve had to adjust your expectations this year, or in years past! I love reading what you share.