Pamper Guests - The Parklander Magazine

MOM’S PERSPECTIVE(continued from page 52)neighbor the old, “Wow, you’re doing yourlights already — they look great.” Then I runfor the phone and, while this is hardly anemergency, I have to inform the mister immediatelythat the neighbors are beating us, likeit’s some sort of “Amazing Christmas Race.”This is just another of my crazy holiday quirks.We used to have similar drama with theoutdoor lights when we had those cursed iciclelights. No matter how neatly I packedthem away the year before, it’s like little evilicicle light elves stowed away in the boxes andspent the next 365 days tangling them up. Wehave since switched to the super giant appliancelooking bulbs that are blessedly lowmaintenance. With these, we can eliminatethe hostile, cranky family putting up lights tocelebrate the season of love and goodwill.Baking is another tradition of the holidays.I do like to bake, but I can admit that I’m a bitof a moody baker. My husband cringes whenhe sees me getting out the ingredients. Healways reminds me that I don’t have to do it.I feel obligated to bake. My mom alwaysbaked. It’s just a part of Christmas and it hasto be done. I always start out pretty chipper,but I don’t do well with a mess surroundingme and slowly mymood sours. Heaven help me ifa batch fails or gets burned,because I just cannot recover fromthat.While I do want to teach mydaughter to bake, I think she isafraid of me. I morph into thissnippy, nit-picky shrew and mydaughter is not impressed.Sadly, I’m not successfullypassing along the idea thatbaking is fun. I am committedto keeping the processsimple. Things that don’trequire an oven are good, like meltingchocolate in the microwave and dippingpretzels.When I think back on my own memoriesof Christmas, I can see my father putting upour fake tree and my mother trying to helpand them bickering about getting the rightbranches in the right holes. I can remembermy father gasping for air when he would walkinto the flour-strewn kitchen. I know that itwasn’t all snowflakes and poinsettias when wewrapped gifts or put the lights on the house.The same challenges and setbackshappened when I was a girl.The good news is that Ithink these memories of thenot-so-perfect times are theones that I am particularlyfond of. These are memories that comeup followed by laughter. Even my husbandand I chuckle over some of thestuff that has happened to us whilewe were trying to make Christmasperfect.I think the perfect isn’t necessarilythe things that we see on TVwith the Walton family or in a fairy tale, butthe real life stuff that we recognize, remindingus that we don’t have to have it perfect tomake the holiday special. I won’t be skippingChristmas but instead I will be muddlingthrough it, one lopsidedly wrapped packageat a time, knowing we can all laugh about itlater. In light of this, I wish you all a not-soperfectholiday.54 DECEMBER 2010