Today we continue our Holiday Season Extravaganza.  Between now and December 25, we will share what it means to celebrate the holidays — Life in Pencil style.

Posted by Anne

Next year for Christmas, I was planning to ask Santa for some elves.  I think they’d be handy.  They could sing carols to keep me energized, and run all manner of unappealing holiday errands.  And if they’re anything like Will Ferrell in Elf, they’d pump me with sugar and make me laugh.  Actually, I think we all need elves—or at least one or two.  Because in case you haven’t noticed, the holidays can produce quite the work-load.  (At least if you celebrate them a certain way, which I do.)

I often feel this way come December 20^th-ish.  This is when my festive holiday spirit begins to wane, and I’m ready for the finish line of the marathon otherwise known as “December”.  I’m just ready to have Christmas. I’m ready for the quiet, the joy, and rockin’ around the Christmas tree, but it’s not here yet.  Instead there are grocery lists, unvacuumed floors, and unmade beds.  This is how I felt this past Saturday afternoon.  There I sat, on our living room floor, surrounded by packages and rolls of wrapping paper.  Generally speaking, I do like to wrap gifts.  But my back hurt, and my tea was cold.  And that’s when my highly relaxed husband—half-asleep on the sofa—asked me, “Isn’t it nice, every so often, to just be sedentary?”  I looked up at him (armed with scissors…and tape) and retorted with an acid, “I wouldn’t know.”

In that moment, I realized how easy it is, especially as a woman, to bear the holiday load.  Or to believe you’re shouldering all the festive burdens.  But in so many ways, I realize how much of this holiday cacophony I create myself.  In my desire to make things beautiful, I make things complicated.  It’s a choice, and it’s a holiday of my own doing.  I wouldn’t change it, but I’m surprised how quickly I forget the roles everyone else plays when I’m focused on my own martyrdom.

Doesn't she look helpful?

You see, I do have an elf.  And it’s the same husband who made that “isn’t lethargy wonderful?” proclamation less than two days ago.  He may not understand my need for a last-minute mission to acquire festive place settings for the holiday meal.  He may not be able to take credit for the decorations.  But he’s an elf.  He tackles the dishes, takes care of his own laundry, and does a nice job with the vacuum.  And perhaps most importantly, he’s the person that asked me to forego our usual weekend workout.  Instead, in the fading daylight of a hectic Saturday, he drove me to a small mountain on the outskirts of town, and hiked with me to the top.  He was an elf, and his gift to me was balance.  And in my flurry of red, gold, and green ribbon—I had taken his role for granted.

Whether or not you celebrate the holidays in the traditional sense, we all have elves.  Maybe it’s a spouse or partner who hangs lights, or does all the shopping.  Maybe it’s a spouse or partner who supports you through the decision to try a different way of celebrating the holidays.  Maybe it’s the sister or best friend who helps you bake cookies.  Maybe it’s the mother who walks you through hosting your first big holiday. The brother who makes you laugh during a lonely holiday season, or an awkward family gathering.

For every Santa there’s a Mrs. Claus.  For every Mrs. Claus there’s an elf.  Thanks to all my elves.  Who’s yours?