Defeating December

I think I’ve finally defeated December.

This wasn’t the worst December I’ve had. That would be back in 2009, just after my ex filed for divorce. That December puts all the ones since in perspective. But December can be a hard month for a single dad. I spent the first half of the month watching married couples at holiday parties, wishing that I weren’t flying solo. The reminder from SingleRoots that it’s okay to be a little lonely at the holidays helped, as did the knowledge that my girls would be with me for a week and a half once school let out. I figured I could forget about my singleness for a little while by focusing on the two people in my life who matter the most.

But once my binary life switched from “single” to “dad” last Thursday, I was haunted by a ghost from Christmas past: The idea that I have to make this the Best. Christmas. Ever. for my kids. It’s easy to tell myself that I shouldn’t stress out over making the holidays perfect or creating Memories That Will Last a Lifetime for my kids. But when the Facebook posts start rolling in letting me know just what an awesome Christmas the Joneses are having, I can’t help but want to keep up. However, it’s tough to create Christmas magic when you’re just trying to survive ten days in a row single parenting two little girls with enough energy to light up a major metropolitan area.

To make matters worse, the little jealous spirit who sits on my single-dad shoulder likes to tell me that if I were married again, I would have that Norman Rockwell Christmas. Or at least one worth tweeting about.

I was so busy beating myself up that I almost missed the Christmas miracle that’s been staring me in the face since school let out last Friday: Ten days in a row with my girls. What I realized today (when I defeated December) is that it doesn’t really matter what the three of us do during this winter break, as long as we spend time together. When I think about my own childhood Christmases, what really filled my emotional gas tank was simply the presence of my parents, especially my dad, during winter break. The activity didn’t matter; it was their time and attention that counted.

Today, it was playing video games with Hannah and board games with Lily. It was sitting with Lily on my lap at the doctor’s office while Hannah got her annual physical. It was taking the girls to a coffee shop and getting to show Lily how crepes are made. It was helping Hannah figure out my old Transformers toys while I made dinner. It was watching cartoons and eating chocolate-chip cookies with one girl on either side of me on the couch.

There’s nothing magical about any of those things individually, but getting to spend an entire day with my little girls? That’s pretty special.

Now if I can just remember all this next November 30th…