Letting Go

Anita Ellis - 13 Dec 16

For the first time ever this year, my husband went to pick our Christmas tree. In our family, this is quite a big deal! Picking the tree is one of my favourite Christmas traditions; we always have a real one (I just love the smell) and we always go ‘en famille’ to choose it. Except by en famille what I really mean is that hubby and kids come along for the long, and indecisive, search for tree perfection. Every year, the poor guy at our local place drags out tree after tree for me to inspect as I search for just the right height, the right ‘fullness’ at the bottom and not too sparse up the top. And it’s become a bit of a running joke in our house about just popping out for half an hour to pick the perfect tree and returning hours later grumpy and freezing. But I always tell myself it was worth it to get the perfect tree.

Anyway, this year, much to my disappointment, I was in bed with a sickness bug on our designated tree picking date. So after much deliberation (weighing up the pros, the cons, the risks, the possible outcomes!) hubby was given the arduous task of picking the tree. And bless his heart, he came back with a belter (well a 9/10 at least). Just the right height, not too bare up top, and nice, full branchage (his word, not mine) at the bottom.

And it got me thinking. There are so many things that I insist on doing myself, especially at Christmas, because by my own admission I am a perfectionist (I’m one of those annoying people that redecorates the tree after the children have gone to bed after they ‘helped’ to decorate it) and I’ve always subscribed to the old adage, ‘if you want something done well, do it yourself’.

Except I’m not so sure if this is true, or at least, if it actually makes us happy. I can honestly say that the effort my hubby went to, just to find the perfect tree to please me, made me far happier than if I’d chosen the perfect tree myself.

I have to say my husband is an absolute star. He’s hands on with the kids, he helps around the house, he does DIY (well, after several not-so subtle hints) but there are so many things I do which take me twice as long because I deliberate (and procrastinate), and then change my mind or feel I have to go that extra mile because It. Just. Has. To. Be. Perfect.

But it doesn’t. Not really. In the grand scheme of things, these things that we feel we must do (and, I don’t know about you, but each year there seems to be yet another ‘tradition’ that other people are doing just to make Christmas that little bit more perfect) really aren’t important at all but they do have a habit of making us feel inadequate for not doing them if we allow them to.

I reckon if I could just learn to let go a little, to accept help when it’s offered or to just ask and to accept that things may not be 100% perfect, I’d probably be a lot happier and relaxed and I’d probably enjoy the festive period more but without the stress I always put myself under. I wonder if this might also be true of other times like holidays where I seem to end up planning the whole holiday, packing for all of us and instead of enjoying the build up, I get stressed about creating the perfect holiday.

So this year, in the spirit of letting go, we’re having (gasp!) chicken for Christmas dinner (no running around trying to order the perfect Turkey), I’m leaving hubby in charge of buying his family’s presents (I always get it wrong anyway) and I’m giving myself a year off from trying to find the perfect sprout recipe that makes them taste less like sprouts (because lets face it, no-one bloody eats them anyway!). And next year, I might even let hubby decorate the tree… On the other hand, that might just be one step too far!

Anita Ellis

Mum to beautiful baby boy and gorgeous 4 year old girl. Wannabe writer, baking enthusiast and lover of all things French.

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