I want to teach my kids that the holidays are about more than an excuse to pig out. When I think back to past things I have said, I shudder.
“Pumpkin pie counts as a vegetable.”
“If we were Shakers, we would eat apple pie for breakfast. This is a history lesson.”
“Eggnog has protein. Drink up.”
“A midnight turkey sandwich is about tradition, not calories.”
“It would be rude not to eat those cookies because Grammy worked hard to bake them.”
For me, Thanksgiving and Christmas brings a mish-mash of food and bad decisions. I can’t blame my situation on lack of knowledge either. I’ve read countless articles in women’s magazines with titles like “What to eat at your next buffet” and “Choose shrimp, not cheese, at holiday parties.”
I usually end up doing what a lot of people do this time of year. I ignore everything I know about healthy eating in November and December and promise to reform in January.
But that’s not the tradition I want to pass on to my children. I don’t want to teach them to be seasonal gluttons. I want my kids to be happier than that.
Food can make us feel pleasure in an instant, but all of us deserve happiness that lasts longer. To find joy of that quality requires introspection.
So here is my big question for myself, my children and you: When you think back to your happiest holiday memory, what makes it so special? Don’t answer in a moment. Don’t deliver a trite response you think other people want to hear. Go for a walk and really think about it. Your answer will be unique.
My happiest holiday memory revolves around mobs of family members. If I close my eyes I can picture being 8 years old. I’m sitting on a blanket with my cousins being pulled across the wood floor like a sled. We whip past aunts and uncles. We knock over opened presents. Somebody hollers at us to be careful, but we keep going. At one point, the blanket-sled lifts off the ground and we fly.
Nowadays, the only times I see my cousins are at weddings and funerals. Relatives scatter across the country. Close relationships dissolve into being Facebook friends.
I can buy new presents and cook traditional recipes, but I can never go back in time.
I could eat fudge to deal with momentary melancholy when I think about holidays past, or I could work harder at crafting meaningful memories for 2015.
For me, that means putting people first, including my own needs as a human being who deserves nutritious food and exercise. Blanket-sleds beat fudge-comas every time.
But what do you think? How will you create holiday joy that lasts a lifetime?
There’s no pressure to give a pat answer. It’s just something for all of us to ponder the next time somebody offers a second slice of pie.
Jennifer Bardsley lives in Edmonds. Her book “Genesis Girl” is scheduled to be released in 2016. Find her online on Instagram @the_ya_gal, Twitter @jennbardsley or at teachingmybabytoread.com.
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