May I Suggest Christmas Bankruptcy?

An option if you are terrified of the impending holiday.

I had another post ready to wrap up (pun intended), but something else bubbled up to the surface and I’m going to share that instead.

This is a pep talk for anyone feeling paralyzed in the middle of December, having hit the point of no return, facing that impossible pile of Amazon parcels.

You can lower the bar, be the world’s most okayest mom, and yet still feel like you’re drowning.

If you feel like you just can’t cross the finish line, like you can neither meet your expectations, nor let go of your expectations—you’re not alone.

While other neurotypical moms are volunteering in classrooms (on Gingerbread House day, in the echoey cafeteria, of all the places!), baking (and decorating!) cookies, actually wrapping presents, driving around their willing children to see Christmas lights, know that you are allowed to live a different life.

If you are feeling more stress and guilt than joy and peace right now about this particular Christmas season, I invite you to declare Christmas Bankruptcy.

What is Christmas Bankruptcy, you ask?

Christmas Bankruptcy is a lot like Email Bankruptcy, which is when you’re hopelessly behind on your inbox, and instead of expecting yourself to catch up, you delete ALL your unread emails. You then send a message to your contacts to inform them that you are starting fresh, and to request them to resend any important messages.

If you’re afraid of your to-dos, or haven’t even written a list because you’re afraid of how long it will be, I encourage you to consider Christmas Bankruptcy.

Turn on this cozy fireplace, and toss all your imaginary inspired lists into it.

Then, grab a fresh piece of paper, and write down what you think is realistic for you at this point—given your brain, your capacity, and what brings you joy. Look over it, and still cross off a couple more things.

If needed, tell the relevant people in your life about the things you can’t be expected to do this year.

You’ve got this.

And Now, for Something Way Less Fun/Dramatic, But Equally Important

I dunno about you, but as someone with ADHD, I’m not regularly opening and dealing with mail, putting away clean laundry, or unloading the dishwasher.

And yet, these regular human tasks don’t go on pause during the holiday season; they actually multiply.

I come in guns blazing in October every year telling myself Things Are Going To Be Different Around Here (i.e., I have Christmas handled), but really what I need to be telling myself is, Things are Always Going to be the Same but Maybe I Can Put in at Least the Same Effort into the Basics as is Needed During All the Other Times of the Year?

You can burn down Christmas expectations all you want, but there will still be laundry—or some other boring household task—to do.

Laundry is a small big thing. It’s monotonous, it’s the biggest insult to an educated woman, and yet when it’s undone, IT. IS. THE. WORST.

If you can afford the common advice of outsourcing and delegating, of course do that. But for most of us, it’s on us.

I want you to know that I see you, doing all that visible and invisible labor, over and over and over again. Know that these menial things are a tremendous gift to your family, even if they don’t always recognize it as such.

In a world where things are thankfully shifting to more equitable divisions of labor in the home¹, it can sometimes feel even more unfair that in most households women are the default person responsible for the literal and metaphorical laundry. It feels regressive to focus on laundry as a way of getting a handle on the holiday hecticness, but perhaps accepting what is, can actually be more productive than trying to make big changes during a crazy time of the year.

So, if you’re feeling SO. OVER. EVERTHING, take a couple of 4-2-6 breaths, and maybe consider:

• putting away a load of clean clothes?

• finding and returning the 74 library books you’ve borrowed so that your house can be just a tiny bit calmer? (Fine, and paying those overdue fees, too.)

• taking out all trash? Better yet, set out more trash cans around the house so your neurospicy family can throw the trash away themselves because you’ve made it a lot easier.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the small, every day things matter. Yes, we want Christmas magic for our families, but also know that simply being you is magic.

You are doing a lot and you are enough.

Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash

Some other resources on this topic

🎧 Robyn Gobbel’s podcast episode on Low-Demand Holidays

✏️ Cara Stolen’s essay, World’s Okayest Christmas

📺 I’ve been enjoying this Cozy Christmas Cafe on the big TV

🎵 My mellow Christmas playlist

Closing Randomness

🪥 Knock-off Sonicare toothbrush head replacements - I don’t have a verdict from my dentist yet, but at less than $2 a head, I feel like this is a good gamble.

1. While I’m so grateful for the work around invisible labor and mental load that I’ve seen emerging in the public space in the last few years (I’m indebted to Eve Rodsky’s seminal work, Fair Play; Tiffany Dufu’s Drop the Ball; and Kendra Adachi’s work recently culminating in the publication of The Plan, a time management approach that takes into consideration women’s bodies; and, of course, TikTok in general, for my understanding of domestic workload balance in the modern world), I also feel like it’s still having its reverberations.

My friend Krista, who is a therapist, says that it upsets the balance when we change our habits, even if we are making choices to be more healthy, and it can take time to find a new equilibrium. I’m not sure we will see that see-saw settle in our lifetime, but I want to say that I see you couples working so hard on these conversations.

Dads, I see you doing way more than just taking out the trash and mowing the lawn. Changing diapers is the new bare minimum, not just a sign of being an evolved dad. You’re on the floor wrestling with our kids every night, and you have—most of the time—the good sense to not jazz them up too much right before bedtime. You are asking questions about the routine, and refusing to accept calling what you are doing “babysitting.” You are doing drop-offs to ballet and coming home to ask, “what’s going on and how can I help?” (I fall more deeply in love with my husband every time he answers for me when one of our precious children calls out “Mama??”)

Moms, you’re leaving the house without kids and not worrying that Dad can’t handle it. You’re not mortified to not have a home-cooked dinner on the table ready at exactly 5:30 p.m. every night. (I know it’s been a long time since this has been expected of women, but it’s weirdly embedded in our systems like a vestigial part of our genetic code.) You are letting go of the planning and execution of the little things, even though society will still assume it’s your fault if your husband forgets a birthday party present or if your house is messy. You are doing a great job losing the little battles because we are fighting a war.