My hands-down favorite book to read this time of year is “I Don’t Know How She Does It,” a hilarious tale of an overscheduled, neurotic working mom and her inner struggle to be everything to everyone. Sound familiar? Sure does to me this time of year, as I was up this morning at dawn, slicing up homemade shortbread to take to the kid’s Christmas Around the World feast today at his school before I head to the office early to get a jump on my Christmas column for the newspaper and think, as I go, of all the presents I still have to find. And did I mention that we haven’t even put up our tree yet? Well, it’s standing in the living room, but with no lights, ornaments or anything.
No wonder I feel on the verge of tears all the time.
But, unlike Kate Reddy, the heroine of my favorite novel (wonder when will it be a movie?), I have help. Actually, way more than help … I have all the support I need, if I can only remember to ask for it.
My amazing husband actually made the shortbread, after shopping for the ingredients on the way home from basketball practice, which he took the kid to while I was at choir rehearsal. My friends, who are just as stressed as me, are always available for a quick cheer-up phone call, and as I sit in my quiet office and write this, the sun has started to pour through the windows and my column (deadline: tomorrow) is actually taking shape.
So how do you get through the Christmas crunch? What pulls you back from the edge when you’re overwhelmed, and how do you remember to see the joy that’s right in front of you, without worrying about what’s coming tomorrow or next week?
Responses to “I Don’t Know How We Do It.”
December 13th, 2007 at 7:47 pm
Heh. Our tree has been standing there for three days with nothing on it. We just finished our shopping today. I don’t believe in astrology, but it just seems like putting up the Christmas tree was star-crossed this year…
We were going to put the tree up Monday. My husband was putting it in the tree stand and I was trying to hold it straight, and he accidentally bashed me in the head with the tree. Blood everywhere! It’s not that bad after being cleaned up (head wounds always bleed like crazy) but I have a slice out of my face from my hairline to halfway down my eyelid. My husband actually started shaking when he saw how close he came to putting my eye out.
So that was it for decorating Monday.
Tuesday, we got the lights out and decided that we couldn’t figure out what we’d been thinking last year and if we had to look at all blue lights again this year we’d go insane. So a last-minute dash to the store, which had… nothing but all blue lights. Oh. That’s what we were thinking last year. Finally we found some different lights (which are still blue, but whitish ice-blue, not dark blue like we had) and I think they’re pretty. The dark blue lights are indoor/outdoor so we put them outside.
Then we got all the ornaments out and found that the treetopper had gotten crushed somehow. Stores were closed, and we were fed up and annoyed by then, so…
Wednesday. Bought a new treetopper. I love it. It was cheap first of all, which makes me feel better about having crushed the old one, and we couldn’t decide whether we wanted an angel or a star and this one is an angel AND a star. Perfect. But in the search for a new topper, we spent way too much money on other ornaments. (Tuesday Morning has these really nifty cloisonnes things…)
Plus, by the time we were done shopping, we were too tired to decorate.
Thursday. Dad wants me to pick out a tree for him and Mom because it’s difficult for him to get around these days. The place where we got our tree is sold out of trees now. Lowes has nothing but tiny trees, and Mom wanted a big one. The Christmas tree tent in front of Lowes wants 85 dollars for a tree and won’t budge on the price!
So our tree is standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but lights, the new treetopper, and too much expensive stuff we bought from Tuesday morning, with the boxes of ornaments around it, and I’m taking a break before starting on the project I have due for work next week. We really are going to finish decorating the tree tomorrow. I hope.
Then, Saturday we go over to Mom and Dad’s to decorate their tree!
Kalisah, I remember being 14, and I remember my daughter being that age… your son may seem like he doesn’t care, but he probably cares a lot that YOU care. He’ll probably get his enthusiasm for the family back about the time he heads off to college and starts doing his own laundry.
What pulls me back when I feel overwhelmed… well, three things.
First, my daughter never really had happy times at Christmas at her birth parents’ house, so it makes me appreciate what a gift it is just to be able to put up the lights without yelling and screaming at each other. Even if there are no decorations at all, we still have that. My mom used to say, “You can’t ruin Christmas,” at times when I would get stressed over something like burning the roast or not finding what someone asked for after looking all over town. But you can ruin Christmas by being mean and thoughtless, so it’s important to take a deep breath and remember what you’re supposed to be doing - celebrating Christ’s coming into the world.
Second, my parents are old and get tired easily. They made Christmas magic for me when I was a child, now it’s my turn to make it for them.
Third: every time I start to feel sick of shopping, I just think how happy I am not to be working retail during the Christmas season. God bless the poor souls who spend all day standing there selling stuff to grumpy, worn-out customers!
December 19th, 2007 at 5:31 pm
Leanne, on your recommendation I picked up “I Don’t Know How she does it” on Amazon (for a whole penny!) and I just finished it. Wonderful book, although for me it’s like a glimpse into a strange foreign world, one where fully-employed mothers actually care what obnoxious teachers think of their pie-making abilities. If this book is an accurate representation, Brits seem to be about ten years behind us as far as their attitude towards mothers working.
Anyway, the only thing I didn’t like about the book was Richard, Kate’s husband. We’re supposed to care that this man, who expects her to take all responsibility for running the family, has childish temper tantrums about sex in front of the children, and can’t even hold down a job that will support his family, comes back to her in the end? He’s a total dud! The produce section at the grocery store is more exciting than he is!
December 20th, 2007 at 11:04 am
Yeah, the husband in the book is a total dork — wonder why she married him — but the part of the book that really killed it for me (spoiler alert) is that at the end, SHE QUITS HER JOB! Like that’s a solution to the balance issue.
And you’d be surprised what fully employed mothers worry about! I think working moms — hell, all moms — worry way too much about how they’re doing as moms, what other people are doing as moms, etc., etc.
It’s exhausting.
December 21st, 2007 at 12:12 am
To be fair, she didn’t really present it as a solution. I get the feeling Kate Reddy is not always the author, particularly when she says things about how dysfunctional her family was compared to her husband’s perfect one. The husband’s Stepford family is just as dysfunctional, only in a different way. Scratch the veneer and it becomes obvious that they’re all looking for excuses to be mean to each other; that’s the heart of dysfunction.
Anyway, thanks for the recommendation. This book has one or two really magnificent lines. I think my favorite line was when she compares the working women of today to the foundation stones of a cathedral and says that they working women of the future may not remember our names, but they will walk on our bones. That’s just poetry. And it addresses the real solution to the problem; a world in which women aren’t expected to make such difficult choices, because the support network they need is there for them.
December 13th, 2007 at 11:16 am
glad to see it’s not just me. I don’t yet have a tree up either…I’m actually thinking of foregoing that tradition altogether this year. (I know, I’m such a scrooge.) But My Kid is 14. He could care less; when he’s at home he’s in his room with the door closed anyway. I’ve taken on the If-you-can’t-be-bothered-then-neither-can-I philosphy this year.
Still, I get overwhelmed with it all. I’m a big proponent of LISTS. I get so much satisfaction from taking a big, fat red sharpie and marking through items as I complete them.
Sometimes I write something down that I’ve already done JUST SO I CAN MARK IT OFF.