A Christmas Card Story
Some insight into why your parents might cling to old habits this holiday season
Though we all hope our holiday season unfolds like a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie, sometimes it can feel more like you’re starring in a reality show featuring twelve days of power struggles between parents and their adult children.
To better prepare you to navigate the season ahead, I would like to share a story that may help you better understand the mindset of the parent who might be driving you crazy this holiday season. So get yourself some cookies or cocoa, and settle in for Holiday Storytime–
Way back when my oldest daughter was a year old, we started a tradition of taking a Christmas card photo. On a Sunday around Thanksgiving, my husband and I would conduct a photo shoot to get the best possible picture of our three daughters and the dog. We’d pose them holding sleigh bells against an evergreen backdrop or pile them into a little red wagon and pose the dog wearing reindeer antlers in front of it. When they were too young to have their own fashion sense, I dressed them in matching outfits.
As the years passed, the girls became less enthusiastic about playing along. The year my oldest turned 20, I had to pile on more motherly guilt than usual to make the photo happen. But I got my picture.
The following year, the prospect of getting the girls to oblige didn’t seem promising. My oldest daughter was close to a total rebellion and ready to stoke the resistance among the other two. For weeks, I pondered whether I should insist that taking that photo was my motherly prerogative.
After all, composing a photo that we could tuck into our cards was my chance to show how much having a family meant to me. The rest of the year, my take on family life tends to be more Shoebox than Hallmark because when the circumstances of ordinary life are about to get the best of me, finding the funny is a way to cut something annoying down to its proper size. But that Christmas card photo was one of the few times I went more Hallmark each year, shining a spotlight on what brought my life its true brilliance. Taking that photo was my way of sharing: These are my children with whom I am well pleased.
I was still vexed about the standoff when I went to an Advent by Candlelight gathering. The discussion at my table turned to evolving Christmas traditions. I was seated with two ladies who had recently lost their husbands and were facing a season chockful of bittersweet memories. Whether they liked it or not, they’d have to replace a lot of traditions that they had no hope of being able to repeat that year. It made me feel a little lame. If the widows could cope with losing their traditions, couldn’t I figure out how to bid farewell to our Christmas card photo?
After all, the Christmas card photo couldn’t go on forever. What was my endgame? Would we graduate out of the tradition once people were out of college? Would we stop once somebody married because our family circle had been altered?
As I willed myself to accept that now was as good a time as any to be done with the photo, I considered whether there was anything that would make my surrender more bearable. I couldn’t have a picture worthy of a Hallmark card, but maybe one suitable for a Shoebox card might help.
So, on a day when none of the girls were home, I made good on a threat I had made the previous year when we were wrestling over their cooperation. My husband helped set up the same red sleigh the girls had posed in the year before. And then I crawled into the sleigh with an understudy—Henry, the family dog.
When I looked at the shots in which Henry and I were looking straight at the camera, I could see in my eyes some of the sadness I felt about not having my children in the photo. But the picture my husband snapped when the dog and I were goofing around at the end seemed to strike a happier tone. We had a winner.
I realized that I had better provide some explanation along with the photo so that our family and friends didn’t think my photo signified a family schism, so I penned a note:
Dear Friends and Family,
Usually, every year you get a photo of our three beautiful daughters. This year, you get me and the dog. As the girls got older, they got more resistant to posing for our Christmas card photo. Last year, I employed motherly guilt to compel their cooperation. This year, I decided to let it go. After all, sooner or later, every tradition has to evolve. I thought this one would last at least until somebody married, but my projections were wrong. At least the dog was still in—I guess he recognizes who fills his food bowl.
Going forward, I’ll miss the challenge of staging a decent family photo on a late fall afternoon. In the beginning, it was hard to get a picture with everyone looking at the camera. Recently, the tricky part has been getting all three girls to agree on the winning print.
Why did we struggle every year to corral three kids and a dog? I guess the photo was our way of sharing the most significant work we did all year. And since we don’t see each other often enough, it was a way of marking time by showing how much the girls had grown over the course of a year. Now they’ve reached ages where most of the growth happens on the inside. Hopefully, our paths will cross soon, and you’ll get to experience these almost-fully-grown women for yourself.
So, we are officially signing off with this holiday tradition. Here’s hoping that you—and we—come up with equally satisfying ways to stay connected and some new Christmas traditions. We look forward to seeing your Christmas card photos for as long as you’re able to coerce your offspring. Before we know it, these people will be wrangling their own babies for Christmas card photos. Merry Christmas!
When I sent out our cards, I felt satisfied with the closing ceremony I’d created for our tradition. My silly picture had taken some of the sting out of this being the end, and I knew it would give people a good laugh. I felt like I’d marked two decades of meaningful work raising three young women who hadn’t yet turned into hoochie mamas. It was like throwing myself a little virtual retirement party after my parenting swan song.
My younger two daughters didn’t love the letter because they felt like the note ought to finger the oldest child as the culprit behind the end of the tradition. But as I pointed out, she was just doing what oldest children tend to do—reaching the next developmental stage first. They all would have felt the same way about the Christmas card photo sooner or later.
The biggest surprise was how much my mailing struck a chord with people at the same stage of the parenting game. Two friends told me it made them feel less guilty about not sending out their Christmas card photos that year. Another friend said she had wondered how much longer she would be able to get her two college-aged sons to comply with her photo request.
One friend waited until she saw me in person to tell me how much she appreciated my photo. She wanted to understand more about what motivated me to handle the whole thing as I did because she struggled with figuring out how to let go.
Clearly, I was not alone in my predicament. We all know we won’t get completely phased out—we’ll still always be your parents. But we all have to adjust to our planned, yet in some ways unwelcome, obsolescence.
So, when you’re home over the holidays feeling frustrated because your mom or dad is still clinging to a holiday tradition that you wish had long since expired or operating like you’re still a teenager, remember my little story. Hopefully, it gives you some insight into what may be going on in your parents’ heads.
Being a hands-on parent is a hard job to walk away from. After all, we invested more than two decades of daily effort into ensuring you were safe, well, and on the right track.
Even if we feel joy or satisfaction about successfully raising you to adulthood, it still can be hard to let go of our role and all of the trappings associated with the job–like Christmas card photos. (Imagine how you would feel if mom suddenly pulled the plug on a tradition you weren’t quite ready to give up yet–like unceremoniously ditching the stockings.)
We all know we won’t get completely phased out—we’ll still always be your parents. But transitions can be challenging. And when you’re all back under one roof, it can be easy for a parent to believe it’s like the olden days again.
When you’re in unfamiliar territory, it can be comforting to cling to traditions. Maybe you can relate to the unease of a significant life change, like adjusting to a new job, roommate, or city.
So maybe cut Mom and/or Dad a little slack. A little grace goes a long way. You could propose a variation of a tradition that allows it to evolve into something new. Or perhaps you can suggest a new tradition that helps your parents feel like your family bonds will endure even though you’re all grown up now.
Though I am now at peace with the end of our family’s Christmas card photo tradition, our cards still feel a little emptier than they used to be. But I try to remind myself about all the good parts about celebrating Baby Jesus’ birthday. To everything, there is a season. And hopefully, one day before I know it, my daughters will be arguing with their own teenagers about Christmas card photos.
Katie Couric, journalist and former anchor of the CBS Evening News, asked the many remarkable people she'd interviewed over the years to share lessons from their lives. The result was The Best Advice I Ever Got.
Stay tuned for one last sample from The Best Advice I Ever Got in the next issue.
In the olden days, moms used to clip articles from newspapers for their kids if they thought it was something they needed to know. I’m keeping an eye out for things that you might have missed that may be helpful to you.
This week’s clips:
Maybe Santa can bring this for your parents: Psychologist Laurence Steinberg has written a book–You and Your Adult Child–to help people better navigate the parenting of 20- and 30-somethings.
Tired of swiping through dating profiles on your phone? Maybe it's time to get out there and meet people IRL An episode of Life Kit (20-minute listen) covers how to ditch the apps and date offline.
As a mum who took regular monthly siblings photos to share on my blog for a few years, I totally get the pain of the stopping! But I hope my girls will look back on them with some happiness and be glad they have them, when they're older....