A Slow December: How an Unexpected Motel Stay Reminded Me to Breathe
Right before the holiday, we packed up and drove to my mom’s house in Northern California for the long weekend. We spent the week doing things that we often don’t get to at home – long snuggles, lots of late breakfasts, a family kickball game in the meadow (parents won, but not without a fair bit of cheating. The victory still feels pretty good).
On our drive, my big kid got sick. We stayed in a roadside motel. I was happy it was dark when we checked in. I am not a snob, but seeing the room in the morning light put a hustle in me that very few things do. I didn’t want to stop overnight in the middle of California. I wanted to just get there. I wanted to keep driving, to push through, in hopes my kids would sleep most of the way.
Creating Space for Rest
My big kid’s need to just get out of the car and lay down forced us all to stop. We got to the motel well before our usual bed time. I let my kids watch a little TV but they promptly turned it off – my little one yelling to me from the balcony that “this TV is the worst!” And we listened to a book and all fell asleep.
I woke up feeling refreshed despite the motel’s best effort to make sleep impossible– thin walls that shook every time a truck roared by, a tiny double bed when I thought I booked two, and blankets so thin I was grateful for our own.
We got on the road, played our usual road trip games, played tag outside Walmart’s charging station, and generally enjoyed the day (well, at least as much as you can on a five-hour drive with two kids).
We arrived at my mom’s just in time. For what? Nothing at all, but just in time.
This unexpected stop reminded me how nourishing it is to create space for slow. Even if it is forced upon us. It gave me the opportunity to reset my expectations, to remind me to be more in tune with my kiddos, to allow the bumps in the road to be blessings. It forced me to be present.
And in the busyness of the holiday season, I often need this reminder.
Slow Motherhood in December
In an effort to create a magical Christmas, we often go a little too far, allowing the season to become less about joy and connection and more about crossing things off a to-do list: Christmas tree ✅, stocking stuffers ✅, cookies ✅, Santa visit ✅.
Every year, I tell myself, I’ll slow down. I will take a moment between the holidays to just be. I tell myself that I will plan our month around things that fill me up rather than taking on tasks just because we’ve always done them or I feel like I must.
I tell myself that I will not let December happen to me, that I will be intentional about it.
My Plan for a Slower December
Here’s how I’m intentionally creating a slow December:
I’ll create rhythms and rituals that support the life I’m building. I recognize that in order to actually enjoy the life I’m trying to create, I need to create breathing room to actually live it. This includes downtime and space for spontaneity. Most of the time, the time is just there. But this time of year, I need to build it in. I need to schedule downtime and I need to allow myself to skip events that don’t feel right in the moment.
I’ll pause and notice my kids. Sometimes we get sucked up in the whirlwind of the holidays and we don’t recognize if our kids are actually enjoying the events we’re “doing for them.” They’re overwhelmed (just like us), they need an early bedtime or time to just be, without agenda.
I need to recognize that just because I planned a trip to go outdoor ice skating, doesn’t mean I need to force it if we’re not feeling it. We can go tomorrow and make today about silly movies and snuggles. I find this next to impossible, so writing it out is necessary.
I’ll rest when I need it. I’ll notice my own overwhelm. I’ll take a step back. I’ll take a nap….
I’ll allow imperfect to be enough.
I’ll make a list, I’ll try to stick to it, I’ll feel like I’m organized and have everything. And then a storm in the midwest prevents the books I’ve thoughtfully picked out for my little ones from arriving in time or I realize that I completely forgot a gift for my sister-in-law.
It happens almost every year. I used to panic. I’ve gotten better at realizing there’s nothing I can do about it and a Christmas Eve trip to the mall, stressed and sweaty, is only going to take away from the spirit of the season.
I’ve gotten better (and will continue to) at letting things go. I will do my best at planning what we need and want, and be as organized as I can at executing (with a little help from Claude). And then I’ll be done.
If I’ve forgotten something… Oh well. If I can’t finish something… next year. If I mess it up… I’ll bring extra wine to make up for it. (affiliate).
I’ll say no. We don’t need to do everything we’re invited to. We don’t need to see every tree lighting, every Christmas Tree Lane, every holiday parade. I’ll do the ones that feel important, the traditional ones that fill me up and add joy. I’ll say no to the rest.
Or at least a few. I know myself well enough to know that we’ll likely do one or two things that we could have skipped but I’m allowing imperfection, right?
Additional Headline
So, that’s my plan. Will I stick to it perfectly? I think we all know the answer. We’ll end up at one too many events because I want to squeeze one more tradition in. I’ll stress about something inconsequential. My anxiety will peak before I get a chance to rein it all in.
But I’m going to try. I’m going to notice when we’re all feeling stretched to thin. I’m going to have conversations about doing too much with my kids so we don’t all get swept up in it. I’ll plan a little reverence and rhythm around the season and allow a few things to fall through the cracks.
And when (because they will) plans fall apart or I forget something important, I’m going to remember that motel and how the thing that I didn’t want became exactly what we needed.
