“Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays…”

There’s a lot of pressure associated with the holidays. If you have multiple parents, step-parents and in-laws, it’s worse. Throw a couple of kids into the mix, and winter holidays can become a logistical nightmare, with each branch of your extended family playing not-so-subtle war games over where you quaff your eggnog.

As a young adult, I always worked Christmas Eve, which made getting to my family’s Christmas Eve celebrations challenging. I remember one Christmas morning in particular—not because of the thoughtful gifts or the pancake breakfast, but because I was so exhausted I woke up crying (and I was an adult, not a cranky toddler). 

I had worked at the mall the afternoon before and then driven two hours to partake in two family gatherings. I hadn’t had enough sleep and was facing driving another two hours to join my husband’s two family celebrations, and they couldn’t understand why I wasn’t giddy to see them. Maybe it was because they always insisted I sample every dish along the 12-foot folding table and then sing Christmas carols for them afterward, on a full stomach. 

By the time I made all the rounds each year, I was exhausted, overstimulated and driving a car full of gifts I appreciated but didn’t need. I always enjoyed the spirit of the season, but when you’ve been observing Christmas mall-style for eight weeks, you kind of just want to keep it simple. Once I was an adult and could furnish most necessities for myself, I didn’t really need that family-sized all-in-one breakfast station with coffee maker, griddle and toaster oven. 

Then there were the behind-the-scenes dysfunctional shenanigans, like the aunt who always arrived at family gatherings mid-argument with her husband. I guess it was tough to weather the long car ride together. After my parents divorced, there was always a tug-of-war over how long I’d spend with each side of the family. I don’t know why my mother cared. She always professed to hate Christmas. Every year, she’d procrastinate about buying gifts, and then we’d end up waiting for her on Christmas Eve while she wrapped them. Good times. 

Sound familiar? So, this was why, when I became a parent, I put my foot down about being at home with my daughter on Christmas Day. I decided I didn’t want my holiday or hers to be an annual reenactment of Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Gradually, I bowed out of many of the gatherings and traditions that made the season a chore instead of a joy.

These days, our celebrations lean more toward the minimalism of Yule than the traditional commercial Christmas. I find a simple Christmas without driving hours is just what my spirit needs. “Home for the holidays” means my home. Home for you can mean wherever you feel good and safe and happy. For some, that’s with family. For others, it’s the last place we feel welcome or accepted or at peace. Your home is where you make it. 

In our part of the world, this is the time of the winter solstice, when nature settles down to sleep. Enjoy the gifts of the season—no wrapping paper needed—and take some time at home for rest and renewal. 

 “If you want to be happy in a million ways/ For the holidays/ You can't beat home, sweet home.”