Yesterday was my big day to mail Christmas packages. For some people, saying "I'm going to mail packages at the post office" might be a statement roughly equivalent to saying, "I'm going to pick up a carton of eggs at the store." For me, it's up there with announcing that I am going to attempt to build a space shuttle and land it on the moon this afternoon: It's an activity that requires intense planning, careful timing, superhuman mental and physical effort, and has a high risk of spectacular failure.
First of all, I had to choose a time when the post office wouldn't be too crowded (oh, how I cackle bitterly as I remember thinking this morning, If I skip the lunch and after work timeframes, it shouldn't be too bad!) Then, I had to get childcare. I briefly considered bringing all five young children with me, but as soon as I visualized trying to hold my place in line while juggling boxes and chasing kids around, I realized it was the worst idea I'd ever had and immediately banished the thought. Once I arranged babysitting, I had to tear through the house to find all of the items that needed to be mailed, many of which had been carted off by curious little hands.
Finally, I made it to the post office, with only my three-year-old and five-year-old in tow. When I opened the door I was a little daunted by the fifteen people in line in front of me, but I remained positive. I reminded myself how good it would feel to finally have this task done, and confidently took my place in the back, carefully balancing the stack of boxes that towered over my head. The line inched forward with slow but steady progress. My two daughters were behaving well (once we established that the Priority Mail boxes were not for use as dress-up hats). A long while later, I was half way through the line. Things were looking good.
And then, I heard the worst five words that a parent could possibly hear while in line at the post office:
Mommy, I need to potty!
I looked down with great trepidation to see that my three-year-old was indeed doing the toddler dance that indicates that a huge mess is imminent. "Are you sure it can't wait?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. I asked if this post office had a public restroom, but I already knew the answer to that too. In desperation I glanced at the line. I was more than half way through...but one of the employees had just gone on break, and based on what I saw transpiring at the single available checkout desk, the woman at the front of the line was evidently trying to mail the entire contents of her house to Mongolia.
My three-year-old's gesticulations were getting more and more ominous. After a brief cost-benefit analysis of getting the package mailed at the expense of a puddle in the middle of the post office floor, I let out a defeated sigh and told the girls we could go. I stepped out of the line, which now stretched out the door, and headed to the car. In an effort to keep the kids safe in the post office parking lot, which was like a demolition derby but with more angry honking, I ended up losing my balance, and all the boxes crashed to the ground.
When I finally got the kids and boxes safely into the car, I flopped into the driver's seat. Instead of beating the steering wheel while raging against the bathroom-less post office and all those inconsiderate people who dared to mail their packages on the same day I needed to, I just cried and made frustrated grunting sounds.
This happens every year. Almost as if it's a day on the Church's liturgical calendar, just after Gaudete Sunday I can plan on Meltdown Monday, when all my Advent failures hit me at once: I look around the house and see the stacks of Christmas cards that aren't mailed, the candles on the wreath that haven't even been lit yet, that gingerbread house kit that has been sitting in the pantry since Thanksgiving, the kids' Advent calendar that shows that it's still December 9th. Gift shopping has combined with little Christmas extras to leave us with an ominous bank balance, and I worry about making it through the month. Then I remember all that there is left to do: The kids were going to make that special piece of art for my grandfather, I need to order that one gift for my son, I need to get more things for that one child since her siblings have somehow ended up with more presents, and, of course, I still have to mail those packages.
This situation used to bother me a lot, but I think I am slowly coming to accept the fact that Advent is just going to be a chaotic season -- at least for me, at least in this phase of life with many young children -- and that that's okay. Some of the wisest words I've read on this subject came from Simcha's contribution to the Labora Editions Advent series of essays. While talking about pregnancy and childbirth, she writes:
And the big [birth] day itself? I don’t care who you are: no matter how holy or fit or hypnotized or drugged out you are, giving birth is horrible. Yes, it’s worth it. Yes, you choose it, and you want it to happen, and you’d do it again. But it hurts. It’s bloody. It’s messy, and exhausting, and sometimes you almost die. Just like the last week of Advent!
Her essay hit me over the head with a powerful point that I desperately needed to hear: We always want our special occasions to be perfect, but it is because they're special that they very often play out quite imperfectly. When you're expecting a new child you have all sorts of dreams about how you'd like to enjoy your pregnancy, the type of birth that would most bless you and your new son or daughter, the dreamy newborn period where you can cuddle and bond like an image from a Hallmark card. This is a big deal, so you want to do it right. And then you find yourself flat on your back with morning sickness, full of aches and pains for nine months. When your due date approaches, you haven't done half the things you wanted to do to make your house ready for the baby. The birth goes awry, the baby is colicky, and the first few weeks are about as un-Hallmark-card-like as they could be. And you know what? The baby is still here, she's still a miracle, and you love her no less than if everything had played out perfectly.
And so it is with Advent. Especially for those of us in seasons where we're trying to make Christmas special for lots of little people, it's almost inevitable that we're going to find ourselves overwhelmed. Yes, we can and should cut back all non-essential activities, but even then there is still a lot to do -- and when you're in a crazy season of life, there's little margin for error. It just takes one person getting sick or one unexpected bill coming in (or one person needing to go to the potty in the middle of a post office trip) to throw all your plans off track.
I think that my biggest source of stress about Advent used to be a feeling of failure. I thought that if I were just a better mom with better priorities we'd have a peaceful, prayerful December where we'd be able to engage in the wonderful traditions of the liturgical year without anyone breaking a sweat. Maybe that'll happen one day. But for now, given my temperament and the size of my household and the ages of my children, I've come to accept that Advent is probably not going to play out exactly like I'd hoped. What has finally brought me peace this season is to see the challenges and derailed plans as a natural part of a full life, and to remember that, like with pregnancy, there's going to be stress and aches and pains and unforeseen complications. But, also like with pregnancy, a little chaos doesn't make the birth of Christ any less momentous.
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I feel the same way when I think of going to the post office- I’m actually planning to go today. I have three little kids (3 1/2, 2, and 3 mos.) and there’s just no way to make it in there with them all. I’ve had so many awful trips like what you’re describing! Thanks for reminding me that the chaos doesn’t detract from what really matters!
I hate the post office! Especially this time of year. I relate very much to the feeling of Advent failures, and the comparison to welcoming a new baby. This Advent is like none other (so far) because of last week’s horrible tragedy, which certainly puts things in perspective.
This was an excellent essay and I understand exactly how you’re feeling. Hang in there!
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I no longer “do” the Post Office if there is any possible way I can avoid it. I have found that FedEx ground usually only costs a dollar or two more. I have a FedEx/Kinkos near me that’s 24 hours so I can go in the middle of the night without children and without a line.
Call me a coward, but I simply wouldn’t even have *attempted* it. I’ve had too many crazy pee pee dance moments like that. I never conquered, I never came out on top, I just felt like a loser. No re-telling of the war story to my beleaguered husband at the end of the day would cool my sense of indignation. I finally. learned. my. lesson. What took me forever, was becoming enough of a matriarch to say: “I’ve done my time, thank you very much.” I don’t even bring a 3 and six year old together to the grocery store, unless it’s urgent. For years, I got by with letting the oldest out of the car with a $20 and my club card, in front of the grocery store, while the engine idled and the other kids cried or bounced off the walls of the car..and yes, I’ve stared down a few parking lot security guards while I inched forward in the car, waiting for my 12 year old to emerge. It may be a war, but I’m done being the victim of my own optimism.
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That’s why childbirth has me feeling a little cornered. No semi-easy solutions to that one…just dread mixed with hope and a prayer.
Order on line. Have them mail direct. The time goes SO fast and all the kids will be grown. It’s amazing.
Two words for next year ....Carrier Pickup! :) print the shipping labels with PayPal and hit the pickup button and in 24 hours your postal person will be at your door to take the blessed things off your hands :)
You’re doing better than me—my son’s Advent calendar is on December 3rd!
This reminded me of one little thing that is actually a big deal. A friend of mine from Chile once told me that in his country they have special parking slots for pregnant Moms. I think they are on to something. For me, being big and pregnant isn’t really the problem unless you add a couple of kids under the age of reason to that equation. How many times have you as a mother searched and searched for parking spot, have stared longingly at six empty handicapped spots, and settled for a far corner space, left to thread your way through parking lot traffic with a fussing infant, a toddler and an inquisitive kid who likes to bolt after birds and squirrels? How many times have you watched people in gym clothes or yoga gear fight for parking spots that are closest to the store entrance? By the time you *get* to that torturous line, you’re already sweating and have a rapid heart beat. Why are people so oblivious to the needs of mothers?
There should be special parking spots for mothers with babies and young children. Maybe even public service announcements so that people have harried mothers on the radar, recognize them as a very special kind of “handicapped”, and have a logical, chivalrous response to them.
“Please, ma’am, take my place in line…Glad to be of help…”
There are a lot of stores in Houston, TX with mothers with children parking spaces right up in front of the door. I didn’t know they didn’t have in them other places. Maybe it will catch on.
So sorry, Jen!
As others have observed, however, there’s a reason the Post Office is slowly going out of business…With all the online, prepaid, or pickup services that now exist, you don’t have to use it anymore.
I’ve been thinking about this all morning. While my heart has been heavy for a lot of reasons this Advent I have not felt stressed. And then I realized, when I read the list of things that are stressing you out we couldn’t afford to do 3/4 of them (buy and send Christmas cards, ship packages, buy a gingerbread house kit, etc). Turns out living at the poverty line is good for something!
I keep thinking about how a “poorly done” Advent is a lot like the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. In the end Christmas still comes, no matter what we’ve done - “it comes without packages, boxes, and bags” and all the other bits. I’m so glad Grace isn’t dependent on me.
Oh I needed to hear you today Jen…I have been lurking on your web sites for a while now, and I always enjoy what I read. But today, what am I saying!!! this entire WEEK has been awful. With six kids ranging from 9 to 6 months it’s always busy. But this week has shown all the major signs of a full force invasion of crazy. Fighting, fighting, crying, whinning, drinking (that was me, I admit), and more messes then normal. Thank you for helping me to realize that all this is sometimes pretty normal. Even when I normal=crazy somedays. Have a blessed Christmas!
@CH Cheers. Here’s to you. (That would have been my glass held high if I wasn’t in the barfy first trimester). I once argued with my priest friend that the *reason* why God changed water into wine at a wedding was pretty darned obvious. He cracked up, but couldn’t be convinced. My parting shot was: “you have nooooooo idea what marriage and motherhood entails…” (I wasn’t giving him enough credit being the great confessor that he is, and one of 12 kids.):)
my goodness- yesterday I read this and planned on taking only 1 big girl to the post today (and leave a big girl with the two littles)- I must admit, I was smug.
We stopped at a coffee shop- waited for our treat when it dawned on me. It was 12 and husband had asked if I could drop off the big girls to go to the hospital Mass and then go caroling around his work. Rush-rush-rush to get the big girls there (of course the little ones were still in pjs…it is Christmas break)...they barely made the end of Mass and then went caroling…..but the post office still needed to happen and I had to take the littles…in their pjs…so they were weeping that they were in pjs in public…
@mom2-haha! Sorry you feel ickly-I know that feeling! I agree about the wine story, I am going to tell that to my priest :) Heck, I agree that nobody knows what motherhood entails-somedays are so amazing that I think that I may have given birth to a future pope. But before I can get to far up on my high horse, my future pope locks his sister in the closet “because it is funny.” Ah me. Well, at least I have coffee, wine (when not expecting another little), and peanut m&ms;.
Before I let you go back to your day, I agree that marrige is hard too. It is great, but it is hard. How is it that one day I would literally die for my husband and the next day I wonder if I was under the influence of some unknown narcotic when I agreed to spend the rest of my life with him… :) God has a plan! Keep on truckin’ sister!
Trying to be nice to my soon…agreed to take him with me on Crazy Christmas errands….only to have him have to go #2…while in a location with NO toilets. Hmmmmmm typical.
Geeze, and I thought that my last week of Advent was stressful! Coming off my early December wedding, being thrust back into work without so much as a weekend’s worth of honeymoon, helping my hubby move in, and practicing for the two Christmas Masses I am cantoring has seemed like too much to juggle. At least I don’t have any little ones (not yet)! Thanks for bolstering my spirits and reminding me I still have so much life to tackle :) ; sent each of you a little prayer as I read your comments.
At women’s recollection the other week, the priest reminded us not to get so caught up in making Christmas beautiful that we forget to make our hearts beautiful! One of the ladies suggested taking a moment in front of our nativities to think about all Mary had to wrestle with for the first ever Christmas. Merry Christmas to everyone!
“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
:-)
Forgive me if I take a trip back in time, but as I recall as a child, all I really needed at Christmas were things that were traditions that my mom and dad and family “always” did. For me, the memories of the joys of those days are my dad hanging Christmas lights outside, us kids hanging received Christmas cards around the doorways as decoration, my dad bringing home the Christmas tree and us decorating it as a family, the dawn’s early light of Christmas morning and the wondrous sight of wrapped gifts under the tree holding who knows what surprises, the beautiful carols we sang together and the story of Mary and Joseph traveling so far, and the baby lying in the manger being loved by even the angels, and shepherds peeking into the barn to see a wondrous sight. From an adult perspective not one thing was perfect in our house; things were a mess, no one could find their shoes, we were usually 5 minutes late for Mass, fights broke out about who should run the train around the track under the tree, lots of glass ornaments ended with a smash on the floor, gifts were sometimes not completely covered with paper (the roll ran out), but I don’t think I cared about any of that one bit. I just cared about my mom and dad and brothers and it was Christmas! It might seem like doing all the extra things during Advent and Christmas will make it all the more wonderful and happy. But it probably won’t. Because kids don’t need a perfect made for TV movie Christmas. The joy of the season, the story of Jesus’ birth, naturally brings out the wonder and joy in their hearts. All they really need is the love of your family, being together, and learning about what love of each other and love of God looks like. What I most remember about my childhood Christmases was not the gifts I received or the perfect holiday events that happened, but how happy I was in a family that loved me.
Jen! You always write so beautifully exactly what I’ve been thinking, I swear!
And that childbirth quote is so, so, so true!
Amen sister!!!! I have been married 23 years with 4 childen and finnally have accepted the “undone” things I can’t get to during Advent and it is OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for a wonderful piece.
Jane
So, this year, I was tasked with going to the post office to send a registered letter - and to take my two kids along, ages 1 and 2. Although a double stroller in the post office is a tight fit… I went. The kids started screaming and crying as soon as we went in. I didn’t have a pen to fill out the form (and of course there are none on the counters) AND my husband called me from another post office to tell me that he was mailing presents to his family. Uhhh… then why am I here? He brought the rest of the presents to work and mailed them himself. Lesson learned, problem solved, solution found.
The childbirth description is pretty accurate.With that in mind, I always wonder why anyone would want to have a video of it?
I work really hard at not working hard during Advent. I mean it. I plan it all out so that there isn’t too much to do at any given time. I am the queen of corner-cutting and doing less. Doing less sometimes means paying more but it’s worth it. And there is stuff I do before Advent like putting up the Christmas lights outside when it’s still warm enough in mid- November and writing out a minimal number of Christmas card the weekend after Thanksgiving. I don’t do much baking but we do decorate cookies using premade refrigerated dough. When I have to send a gift it’s usually money or gift card in an envelopel; I never go to the post office. For Christmas Eve dinner I pick up a premade dinner at the local grocery store. My kids are a little older now but when they were young I rarely took them on errands. I waited until my husband could be home and then I would go to 24 hour Meijer for most shopping.
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