Frantic Festivities

So this has been a year of twists and turns, many of which have been documented within this blog, and now I find myself at the start of December looking at the finish line of 2018. This month is probably the busiest, as most people celebrating Christmas will no doubt agree. In recent years, we have found ourselves jumping through hoops to accommodate the various requirements of the festive season and often ending up exhausted by the whole process.

Beyond the plans for the big day itself and who will be going to who and how much food you really need to buy, is the clamour to sort out gifts for everyone in enough time to wrap them and get them to their destinations. The whole process seems to become more intense each year and I wonder if my memories of a simpler, distant Christmas are somewhat rose tinted? I’m sure that we all buy more stuff nowadays and, even with the immediacy and convenience of the little brown packages from Amazon Prime, the whole process seems to demand a level of commitment and spreadsheets that would not be out of place in a corporate organisation!

Since the kids lost their sense of wonder in the identity of the man in the red suit, it is certainly true that a certain amount of magic is lost from the whole event. Still, in the years immediately after that revelation we had times that we found time to share festive moments together; visits to see Christmas lights, taking long walks on a winters day or the odd special treat seeing a show or similar.

Then dark times invaded our festive season. Several years hosting Christmas dinner with an ill relative attending is hard but worse still is spending Christmas or Boxing Day in hospital alongside the bedside of a parent, unsure if they are going to make it through the night. Against the backdrop of those experiences, it is no surprise that the C word often conjures up an initial negative response from me. It is impossible to have the different parts of Christmas, the little family traditions that we all develop over the years, without poignancy and thoughts of those no longer able to join us round the table. 

Recently, whilst taking time alone with my husband, we tried to talk through ways of making this year calmer and less stressful. We’re still floundering somewhat in achieving this but we have got each other’s back and when one of us feels like it’s all too much, at least the other is able to offer a hug or a suggestion to help out. I think we’re both feeling a little resigned to the actual Christmas event being whatever it is and have adopted a sort of ‘let’s not overthink it all’ approach. I think we’re tired of trying to accommodate everyone’s wishes, be there for all and fit in with what everyone wants without regard for what we might want ourselves. We should be grateful to still have close family members around to share the two days with but it does feel like we’re ticking off the list of expectations and once again, putting ourselves at the bottom of the pile.

The things I am looking forward to this year are the little events we are choosing to have in the run up to Christmas and the promise of a few quiet days afterwards. There are evenings planned with colleagues and friends, a lunch out here and there and a mad party of dressing up and silly games set up for the drama group that I get to call my other family now! I suppose the attraction of these events are how they centre around simple things: raising a glass of wine together, playing a party game, walking in a wintry wood, chatting over lunch, wearing a silly hat or watching a friend open an inexpensive gift that has more effort in the thought attached than it has monetary value. Little things count. It may sound cliché to say so, but it’s true.

For many reasons we’re trying to scale back the excesses of our festivities this year. The money spent, the food wasted, the pile of wrappings- all seems an excess that we could well do without. I feel that I’m looking back with nostalgic eyes and perhaps trying to replicate some of that through us having a simpler celebration this year. I certainly intend to value the simple aspects of the festivities ahead: sharing time with those important to us, giving thought to tokens of love or appreciation, noticing the little touches that others have made, enjoying moments of calm or silliness away from the daily routines of our working lives. When all is said and done, these are the things that should refresh us and bring us joy and the strength we need to face the year ahead. 

Just as this year’s twists and turns have felt significant, I know that there will be more to follow next year. The unknown pathway is extending into the distance beyond me and I feel small as I stand there looking forward. Each year, as we reach midnight on the 31st December I check myself thinking what will this year bring? What have I got to be grateful for from this year? What can I do to make the most of the year ahead? No one has all the answers, for life tends to follow no rules. All we can do is give it our best shot and be thankful for those that we have alongside us to share it with. 

There will be more for me to reveal in my blog next year and many aspects that I cannot begin to imagine right now. For I stand small and timid, with images from films in my head akin to Little Red Riding Hood skipping off to Granny’s house and taking the forbidden steps off the pathway. Will there be a wolf in disguise awaiting my arrival into 2019 or will I find my way out of the dark and twisted forest and back on to the clear path? This story is yet to be told and its blank pages are waiting for my ink to spread across them.

Time for a Chat.

A typical 4 year old, if there is such a thing, has a vocabulary of about 1500 words – impressive in such a short space of time. So you would think that by the teenage years their eloquence would extend beyond “No, uh, M-u-m and what?” All the rich tapestry of the English language laid out before them and it is reduced to a smattering of mumbles, when pushed, and a string of hashtags or a winky face emoji as their thumbs work overtime on their stream of messages in one online chat forum or another. It seems at times that they have entered some secret club that you, as the parent, can only view from the outside. They certainly don’t want to engage in conversation about their daily activities and if you do hear them speaking, it’s often in some new and strange language that I won’t embarrass myself now by attempting to quote any examples from. There’s nothing worse than a Mum trying to be ‘down with the kids’ and I’m sure we all remember the cringing feelings when our parents attempted to be cool in front of our teenage friends, way back when.

Now my kids have entered this teenage and beyond phase, it can be with some regret that I nostalgically look back on their toddler years – the time when they asked questions every single minute of the day – and think why didn’t I appreciate the value of this at the time? Why? That’s what my children asked constantly – why is this or that the way it is? At the time, it is easy to pass off questions with a quick response to close down their line of enquiry or to think if only they could be quiet for just an hour so I can drift off mentally to a place of peace and quiet. But at that point in time, to them you are the font of all knowledge and this doesn’t last for long. How many times more recently have I heard them scoff “Mum, don’t you know what that is?”

Perhaps our household has always been a chatty place. As my two children grew up they were always included in conversation around the dinner table and although encouraged to wait their turn and be polite enough to listen to others, they knew their opinion and contributions would be valued. I recently came across a quote which I find poignantly significant at this time in my life:

“Listen earnestly to anything your children want to tell you, no matter what. If you don’t listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won’t tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff.”  (Catherine M Wallace)

Joking aside, I am grateful that my kids – who are mostly grown-up now – do still want to talk to me when they have something on their minds. There has been a patch where this was difficult, where the adolescent hormones combined with diagnosed anxiety and depression in such a way that it felt almost impossible for one of my children to speak to me. Almost 18 months of talk therapy and a whole heap of hard work by the family have helped to address this and I’m feeling that we are now sharing things again. Whether this sharing has been little or big stuff, and some of it has indeed been big stuff, it is worth remembering that the seemingly small step taken to talk about it has been a gigantic leap of faith in making the decision to do so.

And what about me? How am I in conversation? The phrase – “Do you have time for a chat?” conjures up different connotations for me, some negative and others positive. If you’re called into your line manager’s office for a chat, it’s rarely to be about the latest developments on a TV programme or to plan a social event together. Sometimes I will send a message to my husband via text / messenger and receive the reply “Let’s chat about it later.” I know that means that the subject matter is going to be up for lengthy debate later and neither of us are sure what the outcome may be.

Meeting a friend for a chat might go one of many ways. Often it is because one or both of us need the space to unleash all the niggles that have been grinding us down over the last months and say them out loud to someone that we know will listen and not judge. Other times, amongst the niggles, is a bigger, more demanding problem that needs airing and a friend can be the support mechanism for this. Food, drink and chatting with friends can help to make the world a better place, even if only for that moment in time.

A chat about no particular thing is also a great form of therapy – talk about whatever comes into your head first and just go with it. To an outsider, I am sure that’s what a lot of my conversations with friends look like. But the process of this - being with good company, those with shared interests and common experiences - that is a great recipe for a successful chat session. Sometimes you don’t even have to say out loud what is really troubling you – the random other bits of chat act as a cover or code and those who know you well, know to keep that going so that you can process the difficult stuff and everyone in the room knows that’s just what you needed.

And now I come to group chats – you know the ones you can set up on Messenger? I’m quite the technophobe, in fact setting up my writing into a blog was a challenge for me and one for which I had to call upon the support of a tech-savvy friend to complete. Is it a good thing that we have the technology available to be able to hold a multi-way conversation without any need for the physical presence of those people in the room?

Group chats have been great when trying to organise a social event or give details for rehearsals to the whole drama group that I am part of. Sometimes, a couple of members of the group chat divert from the intended point of the original message and if you weren’t online at the time you open the chat to a stream of comments, thumbs up signs and GIFs that you have to scroll through, emphasising just how late you were to this party chat!

It is true that I am guilty of holding several group chats at once and then I really have to be awake and aware of which comments I am sending to who. It would be difficult to explain a flirty message intended for your husband to a group set up with work colleagues about an important meeting in the schedule.

However, I have found myself checking my chats daily and it has been good to be able to access advice from friends when I have needed it or to check where my family members are and whether they are intending on being home for dinner. The benefit over texts being that I can at least see that they have received a message, even if they choose not to respond.

I don’t think electronic chat can replace the real thing though, for all the reasons I’ve explored already. To talk to each other, in person, face-to-face is to be human and individual amongst the daily crowd of automatic responses and faceless encounters. “Do you have time for a chat?” Always, for my family, my friends, I will always make time.

 Have you ever been caught out in a group chat?

What do you think about the social media opportunities for chat and how our children engage with these?