I struggled with that title a bit because we try to keep it PG around here, you know, for the children. Let’s just say this has been the season of “effits” for me. And it has saved my sanity this Christmas.

It all started with the tree.  Wait, that’s not right. It all started right before Thanksgiving with the concussion my youngest daughter was gifted from an accidental punch to the head during handball in gym class. It was worse than at first perceived, and she had to be on complete stimulation lockdown: no music, no texting, NO SCREENS, no reading, no games, no puzzles, no nothing–except talking to her mother in a darkened room . . . and coloring. It was like the worst grounding ever for any thirteen-year-old, except my thirteen-year-old was about to turn fourteen. We had to reschedule her birthday party, too. The sadness was palpable.

This is how I entered Thanksgiving where I also had to make the entire dinner from soup to nuts, as Erin likes to say. Hallmark did not have a card to express my Grinch-esque holiday spirit because they apparently like to keep it PG, too.

But I wasn’t just feeling overwhelmed by worry for my injured daughter and the responsibility of orchestrating a glutinous meal; this was my second year without my mother. I look back on last year and marvel at the way I soldiered through the holidays. I must have been functioning on muscle memory because I was numb. Whereas last year I was wrapped in a muffling quilt of grief, this year I was acutely aware of every moment and nuance of her absence.

So with this curmudgeon essence coursing through my veins, I launched into the first of my effits: “It’s the weekend after Thanksgiving and we’re getting the tree.”

I know this does not seem like much of a stand. Many people decorate their trees that weekend–their ARTIFICIAL trees. But we get a real tree, and we like to keep it up until New Year’s . . . and we can’t be trusted to take it down on New Year’s. In a totally related side note, I have a history of scooping pine needles out of my family room with a snow shovel.

But my baby needed something to distract her from her canceled party, and picking out a Christmas tree at dusk seemed within the realms of non-stimulating activities.

After that baby step of an effit, they continued to flow! I didn’t care what tree we picked out. We were together. Without my guidance it took forever. But whatever, we were grabbing some joy. When my oldest pointed out that half of our family unit was settling on a crooked tree with a bubble butt, I did not enter the fray. I mean, the thing only tipped over once while we were decorating it, but who cares because I was there to break the fall.  So behold our tree anchored to the wall with a “ledge” so large we nestled a papier-mâché cat on it to detract from it.  It really is the Kim Kardashian of trees.

But besides pine needles embedded into my eardrum, I got this takeaway:

Sanity Saver #1: It doesn’t matter what the dead tree we are destined to mulch in four (or six) weeks looks like! Martha Stewart has always ignored declined my invitations to date anyway.

I took this calendar-defying decorating miracle one step further and decked the whole house! My first realization of how other (organized) people live hit me on the head like chestnuts flung by a mischievous Elf on the Shelf.

Sanity Saver #2: Decorating the house before December opens up that whole month to be jammed packed with all of the concerts, parties, baking, and fa la la-ing.

In the past, I had always wanted to have my youngest’s birthday party before decorating, because kids are destructive, yo. This led to me squeezing in the decorating when I could and sometimes left us tree-less into the third week. But she is now a teen, and all they do is hole up in the basement. From now on, decorating is taking place in November and partying is getting pushed into December. Thank you concussion for foiling my procrastination?

Then in true Christmas miracle fashion, a second procrastination buster entered my life in the form of a simple dinner invitation. A friend was flying in to visit family in New York City, and sent out a message asking if any locals could meet for dinner. I raised my hand! I am not local. I am three hours away from NYC. I said effit I am going anyway.

I could not turn my back on this happenstance because the invitation was for December 22nd, the time my mother would have come up to join in all of our Christmas preparations.

Sanity Saver #3: I have found the best way to grab joy over grief is to shake myself out of the groove that highlights Mom’s absence and surround myself with people who feed my soul. Friends are the family you choose.

One of my dear friends, who actually was local, offered to have me spend the night, and I had one of the loveliest evenings filled with good food, and even better laughter. Breaking bread with intelligent, interesting women is a gift.

Ah, but I had labeled this invitation as a procrastination buster too. In order for me to enjoy myself, I needed to have Christmas ready to go. In an unprecedented move, I had all of my shopping done and all of the gifts wrapped by December 21st.

Sanity Saver #4: Not leaving the wrapping until 10 pm on December 24th allows you to actually enjoy Christmas Eve and prevents zombie eyes in the Christmas morning pictures.

It’s not that I always wanted to wrap on Christmas Eve, it’s just that wrapping seemed like the task that could be pushed off until the end.

If this were a Christmas special, a Claymation snowman would come out to tie this up in a shiny bow, but I have to admit my ribbon is a little crumpled. I may have still had to stay up until 1:30 am on Christmas Eve because I was a little too cocky about having the wrapping done, and failed to gauge the time it would take to make the awesome Pumpkin French Toast Casserole I found on Pinterest.

However, I still don’t regret the time I spent snuggling with my family watching A Charlie Brown Christmas instead of clanking around in the kitchen. But I have seen the light because I now realize why organized people are so self-congratulatory. It feels good! God willing, I will rock the holidays even better next year. My family deserves a Stress-Diminished Ellen for Christmas.

-Ellen

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