Have you ever wondered who put more planning into the birth of Jesus? His own Mother Mary, or us?

First off she only had to do it once. I’m sure they had birthdays then but they didn’t have Santa Claus and staff parties to deal with. She had Jesus, we got Christmas. Fair? No.

We repeat the process year after festive year. It’s so exhausting. Yes she rode a donkey, and couldn’t find a suitable birthing room but with a stand up man by her side, Angels and the Lord, I’d say her support network was top notch.

She didn’t even make her own announcements, someone told her! There wasn’t cardstock and stamps to brag it out. Social media wasn’t around for her to say “I can’t make this up, Joseph and I are having God’s baby, look to the sky for his arrival”

Mary never had to worry if her kid would amount to anything. She wasn’t reading parenting stone tablets. No, Mary was informed ahead of time how awesome her baby would be. Not a drop of mom guilt there. Lucky you Mary.

What does this have to do with Christmas? Well, I’ll tell you. Mary got off easy that night, while inadvertently changing the whole world’s future and forever month of December. Thanks to Mary and her big deal of a baby, we have to knock ourselves out every December 25th. It would be one thing if it was just a day, but Christmas is an entire season now. A stretched out time to shop, craft, plan, dream, invite, dread and lose our absolute shit.

I’m just saying it’s not fair. The pressure we put upon ourselves that is.

From hand felting ornaments to growing your own fruit to make preserves, I think we’ve taken it too far. I know Mary must have made some preparations for her sons arrival, but honestly was she shearing sheep to make garland a week before her baby came? I doubt it.

For whatever reason we celebrate the holidays, the intent is to be kind to others, share our love, food, gifts and memories. More often than not it’s our worst selves thrown on the dinner table, gifting others with our politics, failures and obvious drinking problem.

We spend all this time trying to impress ourselves and others with our ability to bake, wrap, sing and host like a saint, when really all we need to do is sit back and let the kids enjoy it. I mean wasn’t the very first Christmas all about a child anyways?

Maybe we need look to the mom who started this whole thing. She didn’t even have a crib, and there were animals everywhere. I mean even though she had never technically had a Christmas, because she was in the middle of the first one, she had to get the significance of birthing a saviour. And yet she remained pretty chill about it all.

The people in Mary’s circle were also not spending weeks shopping beyond their budget, though gold was kind of a show stopper I’m sure. Three men were in charge of presents, which I assure you they bought the night before.

If we think back to that night, we can learn a lot. It wasn’t about how much, or who’s star shone brighter, (well a little it was), it was a time of family and friends celebrating. Mary and Joseph didn’t spoil little Jesus rotten, they checked him over, assumed since he was the son of God all ten toes were in place and they slept. No alarm clocks were set to beat the morning crowds for half price wooden toys.


Angila has been writing since 1979 when she received her first diary, filling it with boy crazy nonsense and girly drama. It wasn't until the 21st century that she discovered writing was a healing tool to release inner chaos. When Facebook was invented Angila, who is an attention whore reveled in receiving likes and shares. Comments started pouring in that she should write a book. Knowing her lack of follow through and commitment issues, Angila ignored the advice and chose to blog. Detached From Logic is where she currently vomits her creative juices and allows the voices in her head a digital soap box. Her life long dream of having fans came when wordpress announced she had one follower. Unlike the stalkers in her life this one felt acceptable and welcomed.

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