I discovered recently that there are whole playlists of sad Christmas songs. Sometimes they are actually sad (I’m looking with heart eyes at Sia’s “Snowman”) and some just sound sad (Sarah Mclaughlin’s Wintersong Album). Either way, I am here for it.

I started writing here around Christmas way back in 2017. My kids are a little older now and I’ve experienced my own personal growth, but this remains a conflicted holiday for me.

I want to show my kids how much I love them, but I don’t want a big Christmas full of stuff. My style of Christmas shopping is to wait until the last minute. I can’t afford a to do a huge blast of spending all in one month. One could suggest getting started earlier, and sometimes I manage, but that’s just not how I am.I want a quiet, simple Christmas focused on spending time together and eating our favorite foods.

This year, our Christmas season was marked by 11 year-old Four learning how to play the Charlie Brown Christmas song on the piano. Pentatonix Christmas is still a favorite playlist.

The Littles decorated for Christmas. They waited and waited and asked me again and again. Then one day they trooped up to the attic and brought down the decorations themselves, hanging the stockings and putting our collection of Christmas trees on a side table.

Continuing our tradition from last year, we used a dirt bike piston for a Christmas star. Although I worry for my kids’ safety regularly, especially when I hear a motorcycle or dirt bike revving in the back yard, I love that this “star” is part of our family culture.We put colored lights on the tree instead of white, for the first time in many years and maybe ever.

We’ve been drinking eggnog. I discovered a dairy-free version called oatnog (thanks, Abi!) at Trader Joe’s. It’s even better than real eggnog, all the flavor and creaminess without the being sickeningly heavy. I also discovered mulled cider, soothing with its gently spicy heat.

For me, the darkness and waiting of Advent really resonate, but because of the lingering pressure of the Christmas season (I should be sewing! Shopping for Christmas dinner! Buying gifts and stocking stuffers! Getting the Advent calendar out in time and following along every day!*) it’s hard to lean into Advent and really immerse myself in that murky biding of time.The kids’ insult of the year is “Fathead,” which the Chaplain and I find a little bit funny because it was his high school friend’s insult of choice.

For the first time, the Big Girls took over shopping for the four Littles. I bought a few things, but they did an actual outing with my debit card and a budget, then rode home on the bus with their loot. They told me they knew shopping stressed me out, but they enjoyed it and wanted to help. They reminded me that I would still need to shop for them, which made me smile.

I managed to get some thoughtful gifts and make a few things, but I know someone will be disappointed whether or not I sew all the things and spend a ton of money on gifts. That sort of makes it easier to do a bit less, since that’s what I want, anyway.As Three said recently, “Christmas is getting uncomfortably close.” And indeed it is.

I’m thinking back to Bethlehem and it just occurred to me that the people then were waiting for a Messiah, but in those last weeks before Mary gave birth, they weren’t building a sense of anticipation because they didn’t know what was going to happen.

That makes sense to me. It’s how I wait, too. There’s a darkness stretching out ahead and I know eventually the light will come, but I’m not sure when. It might flicker briefly on Christmas, or it might not.I know the Messiah has already come, but many times I’m still waiting: to feel like I’m enough, to disconnect productivity with worth, to relax into being in a way that doesn’t twitch with guilt and inadequacy.

If you’re with me, stumbling forward in the dark, you aren’t alone. Merry Christmas.

*Bahahahahaha