Dear Mom,
As December unfolds, I find myself overwhelmed with the holiday hustle. I can’t fathom how you managed to raise six kids as a single mother during this season. It’s only the 11th, and I’m already feeling drained.
You often say, “I don’t know how you handle motherhood today,” but let’s be real, Mom. You were juggling a virtual baseball team of children, tackling three times the challenges I face. Balancing a full-time job while crafting a magical Christmas for us—without the conveniences of the internet—seems almost superhuman.
This realization hit me last night as I laid awake, mentally organizing my lengthy holiday to-do list. It’s astounding how you transformed into a superhero each December. Here’s how it breaks down:
December 1
Me: I let my two kids write their letters to Santa. The following morning, I manage some writing assignments from home, squeeze in a couple of hours of online shopping, and dash to Target for essentials. Between interruptions from the school bus and dance class, I feel satisfied that I’m nearly done, aside from some last-minute gifts that I’ll enlist my partner to help with later.
You: You gather six unique Christmas lists—four from the girls and two from the boys—before making your way in your well-used VW Rabbit, dropping us off at two different schools before heading to your 9-5 job. Lunchtime finds you racing to the mall for a swift shopping spree, then back to work. After hours, you shuttle us to an endless cycle of soccer and football practices, trying to fit in shopping while preparing dinner for all seven of us. Late at night, you stealthily move presents from your car trunk to various hideaways in our already cramped home, fully aware we’ll be on a treasure hunt come Christmas morning. And then you wake up and do it all over again.
December 15
Me: By now, we’ve made a quick stop at Home Depot to pick out a modest Christmas tree, and our evening consists of a cozy family night, hanging ornaments and sipping hot cocoa. Hanukkah preparations are also on my plate, but with most of my shopping done, I can focus on finding the perfect gifts for friends and teachers, expressing my appreciation for their support.
You: You skip gifts for friends and teachers because, let’s face it, time and money are tight. Amidst the chaos, you somehow manage to take us to a charming neighborhood Christmas tree lot, getting all six of us to agree on the perfect tree without overspending. Your nights are spent wrapping gifts behind closed doors, ensuring everything is organized and fair. You even squeeze in some baking, gathering us around the kitchen island to make cookies while we bicker over sprinkles. And through it all, the joyful melodies of John Denver and Andy Williams fill the air, and there you are, singing along, all while knowing there are still school programs to attend, parties to host, and gifts to track down.
December 24
Me: I book a table at our favorite restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner because I’m too tired to cook after all the holiday events. I look forward to enjoying good food and a glass of wine, followed by our tradition of driving around to see Christmas lights. After settling in for the night, we set out cookies and milk for Santa, tuck the kids in, and relax with a cocktail by the fire.
You: While we spend the day with Dad, you are busy in the kitchen, preparing a feast for our family. The day is a whirlwind of last-minute wrapping and hurried store visits to grab forgotten items. When we return home, you spend hours trying to wrangle us into bed, only to stay up late, dashing to and from hiding spots, piling gifts under the tree, and stuffing stockings to the brim—all while listening for the slightest sound from our bedrooms.
Yet, somehow, by Christmas morning, you pull it off. You manage to create a personalized holiday for each of us, fulfilling our wishes and showering us with gifts beyond what we likely deserved. You infuse the season with meaning, imparting memories that will last a lifetime.
And you do all this with grace. With little sleep. Without complaints. You navigate the challenges of motherhood, even on years when you find yourself alone while we celebrate elsewhere.
I know you’ll shrug off the effort, saying, “I just did what needed to be done.” Perhaps you don’t recognize the magnitude of what you achieved or maybe the joy of the season overshadowed the exhaustion. But I want you to know that I see it all. As I navigate the next few weeks, I’ll cherish the warm moments and strive to create a magical Christmas for my children, just like you did for me.
Merry Christmas, Mom!
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Summary
This heartfelt letter reflects on the incredible efforts of a single mother during Christmas, comparing the challenges faced in past generations with today’s parenting struggles. It highlights the dedication, love, and sacrifices made to create magical holiday experiences for children, while also acknowledging the importance of appreciating those moments.