During the 5-Day Holiday Journaling Challenge I'm hosting this week, one of the writing prompts had us explore recent holiday moments with our kids. Fun times!

Er, well . . . I confess that family holiday moments aren’t always so fun. 

I tend to feel rather stressed when decorating the upstairs tree with my preschooler. Last week, sure enough, he stealthily managed to dump the 100 (albeit plastic) ornaments out of the box. As they rolled away like billiard balls scattering after the first break, they inevitably sprinkled glitter across my carpet.

My venomous hatred for glitter was palpable. My hands curled into fits. My nostrils flared, and I clenched my jaws. I felt the urge to yell crawling up my throat.

And then I remembered my childhood and how much I disliked decorating the tree with my dad. He did not permit me to hang the ornaments. Everything had to be displayed perfectly, with ornament colors and textures distributed evenly.

As my voice increased ten octaves, I recalled that image of little Erin longing desperately to hang the ornaments herself.

Thus, he assigned me to unwrapping duty, as “helping” in some fashion was obligatory. Last, my family tended to chastise me for not exuding holiday cheer as I mechanically handed them each ornament.

Fast forward a few decades, and as the plastic glitter bombs sprawled away from me and as my voice increased ten octaves, I recalled that image of little Erin longing desperately to hang the ornaments herself. I took a deep breath, stepped back, ignored the twinkling carpet, and let my kids squeal with joy as they hopped around and hung those shiny orbs by themselves. 

Yes, I guided a bit: Large balls on the bottom; medium balls in the middle. Did my kiddos mix up some sizes? Of course. And that’s part of the charm. That imbalance reminds me of the season of life I'm in right now and how precious and fleeting childhood is.

More importantly, that disarray is proof of how much my kids loved decorating the tree. They relished taking control, expressing their creativity, and knowing their choices mattered. Their pure joy quieted my anxiety. To help my kids remember holiday decorating as a time of family fun, I’ll choose an imperfect tree every time. 

To help my kids remember holiday decorating as a time of family fun, I’ll choose an imperfect tree every time. 

And you know what? Before I sat down to write in response to that prompt, I had berated myself more so for my initial reaction, rather the end result.

That's the beauty of journaling prompts and writing exercises: By the end, they can help us to see more clearly the beauty and love within those not-so-perfect holiday moments.

To my readers:

Tell me about your last not-so-perfect holiday moment with your kids. More importantly, what did go well.

Squealing for joy, 2021; photo by Erin P.T. Canning