Ah, Christmas—the most wonderful time of the year! Or, as I call it, Santa’s Stress Test. With three kids—a teenager, a school-aged boy, and a toddler girl—it’s a festive mix of chaos, caffeine, and crying (mostly mine). Let me walk you through how I’m not crushing the holiday season this year.
Act 1: Present Picking – AKA “What Do You Even Like?!”
Teenage Boy: “I don’t know what I want. Maybe money.”
Middle Boy: “I want EVERYTHING from this catalog.”
Toddler Girl: (shoves random object in mouth)
Shopping for a teenager feels like preparing to negotiate a hostage release. The teen insists on cold, hard cash or something abstract like “chill vibes.” Middle boy, on the other hand, wants every toy that exists, from action figures to a trampoline, to a unicorn. Toddler girl? She’s thrilled with wrapping paper and will gleefully chew on the tape dispenser.
After countless Walmart trips, two online carts abandoned at checkout, and one existential crisis in the electronics aisle, I settle on gifts that may or may not cause sibling drama. If the teen steals the middle boy’s video game, or the toddler absconds with someone’s Legos, it’s character-building, right?
Act 2: Decorating – A Game of Survival
It starts with high hopes: “This year, we’ll make magical memories!”
It ends with me yelling, “Who broke the angel’s head again?!”
Our tree is a mix of precious keepsakes and whatever survived last year’s melee. The toddler keeps trying to climb it like she’s auditioning for American Ninja Warrior. The middle boy insists the ornaments need a “battle zone,” so half the tree looks like a war-torn action movie. The teen? He supervises from the couch, offering unsolicited advice like, “That’s not straight,” while scrolling TikTok.
By the time we’re done, the lights are tangled, glitter is everywhere, and the star leans precariously to the side like it just got back from a holiday party. Perfection.
Act 3: Baking Cookies – “It’s Edible… I think?”
Baking cookies should be fun, right? Wrong. It’s a hostage situation orchestrated by the toddler, who’s hell-bent on eating raw dough and smearing frosting on the walls. Middle boy approaches the process like a mad scientist: “What if I put ketchup on this one?” NO. Just NO.
Meanwhile, the teen walks in, mutters, “Are these chocolate?” (they’re not), and walks back out, leaving me with flour in my hair and a toddler wielding a spatula like a weapon. The cookies turn out somewhere between “Pinterest fail” and “passable,” but hey, Santa’s standards aren’t Michelin-star level.
Bonus Level: Keeping Santa’s Secret
Explaining Santa to a teenager is like convincing a jury I’m innocent of holiday crimes. He knows but insists on loudly debating Santa’s existence within earshot of the younger kids. The middle boy asks too many questions: “How does Santa get past our Ring doorbell? ”Me: He disables it with Christmas magic. Him: “Can I see the app logs?”
And the toddler? She’s blissfully oblivious but insists on calling every man with a beard “Ho-Ho.” She also doesn’t understand why she can’t touch the gifts under the tree, which now lives on the highest shelf like a forbidden treasure.
In Conclusion: Preparing for Christmas with three kids is like running a marathon where the finish line moves every hour. It’s chaotic, messy, and exhausting, but at the end of the day, their excitement makes it all worthwhile—mostly.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to untangle the lights, refill my coffee, and remind the middle boy that ketchup is not a cookie topping. Happy Holidays! 🎄
Add comment
Comments