The New Christmas

If I only heard “Merry Christmas” one time on Tuesday, I would have chalked it up as a joke.

But at least three moms wished each other a Merry Christmas as we were dropping our kids off for the first day of school and it struck me that yes, this is the new Christmas for parents.

The old Christmas is quite a lot of work, what with the decorating, the shopping, the cooking and the Santa-line standing.

When you finally get around to fishing Santa’s slightly used tube of ChapStick out of your stocking and putting it back in your purse because Santa knows you’d rather have a) no more gifts to wrap and b) soft lips—yay!, it’s easy to conclude that as holidays go, this one is a bruiser.

I suppose the first day of school could feel like as much work as the run-up to Christmas.

There’s the shopping: new shoes, new clothes, pencils, erasers, binders, folders, along with things our parents never had to buy, such as supplies for the Emergency Care Package. (Coordinating these, by the way, is the one volunteer job at school that is always held by men. Why are dads attracted to volunteer positions that involve earthquakes, fires, terrorist attacks and other terrors--but not bake sales? Do they not possess the proper fear of Bundt cake?)

There’s also the night-before excitement that you have to deal with, which is why publishers have started putting out books like The Night Before Kindergarten, a parody of the original Clement Moore poem.

But there are two big differences.

The first? No gift wrapping or decorations.

The second? Well, when everything starts, you’re in your house alone (or in your car alone on the way to work). And it’s so darned quiet. Right now, I am in my writing closet and the only sound I hear besides my overheated laptop fan is the ticking of a clock. It’s either that or a bomb, because I don’t recall having a clock in my office. Hmmm.

In any case, that silence is a sound I haven’t heard for twelve weeks. Twelve! No one is asking me for a drink of water. No one is saying, “Oops,” followed by “I didn’t do it! It was an accident! Alice, get me paper towels. A WHOLE BUNCH!”

It’s affecting me so deeply that it practically feels religious. And while I could break out in a round of the hallelujah chorus, I won’t. For one thing, it would upset the dog, who is sleeping nearby. And for another, I miss the noise. The first day of school, and the departure of my kids from my house, is a reminder that one day, they’ll walk out that door and never live here again.

I can’t bear to think of it—here’s hoping Adam puts together a really good Emergency Care Package for me when that day comes.

--Martha Brockenbrough

Comments

[Jessica A]

Can't believe that Lucy is 9 already and in 3rd or 4th grade now. Alice is 5 1/2 already and in kindergarten. Where has the time gone with them and etc.

[Jean]

I never thought of that way... "Christmas" in September, it's so true. The house is quiet, it took me a while to get over the saddness and quietness and now I can get things done again without kids bugging me!

[Lois T]

re: "The first day of school, and the departure of my kids from my house, is a reminder that one day, they’ll walk out that door and never live here again." Oh how true it is. I have 3 daughters: 24, 20 and 17. This year was the last year I'll ever need to buy school supplies, new school clothes and supply lunch money- and it makes me sad. Two of my girls have grown and gone (and are doing very well) and I have one more year with the last. I hope to make it count. Time goes so fast, cherish every little thing. Martha, I've enjoyed your writings and musings for many years. You have a great humor and wisdom combined that appeal to the everymom. I wish you continued success and many great days with your girls.

[martha]

Thanks for reading and commenting, Jessica, Jean and Lois!