We’ve Chosen a Tiny Christmas

My daughter is over the moon with excitement

A few days ago, I asked folks to tell me what kind of Christmas dinner traditions they had. I wanted to learn what other people did before making a decision about what sort of tradition I might be able to do as a single mom struggling with chronic disease and an especially disappointing lack of energy this year.

A couple of people were genuinely confused and didn’t understand why I didn’t just do what we have done in the past, but that’s part of the problem. We didn’t have a consistent tradition, and my daughter desperately wants to begin one this year. Plus, we’ve had some restaurant orders (Taziki’s) in the past that we don’t have this year.

By far, the biggest issue issue is my lack of energy and mobility this season, combined with Sophie’s desire to do something very special.

Going to the store to pick up ingredients might not seem like a big deal to most people, but like many other chronic disease patients, it’s a very big deal for me. Just making pickups in my car for groceries can wear me out for the whole day, but once I get home and get the ingredients unloaded, that’s when the real trouble begins.

Cooking has been an incredible challenge for me lately. Everything has been a struggle, actually. Because my lipedema progressed into lipo-lymphedema before I was diagnosed and treated (conservatively and surgically), it took a great toll on my body.

My metabolism hasn’t “snapped back” like many other patients. I still have to wear the max medical compression on my legs every day. I must watch how I eat, drink, sleep, exercise, and even think to help avoid lymphatic flare-ups.

Stress is an enormous known contributor to excess swelling. I can’t avoid all the stress of a stressful disease, so I try to manage it instead.

The most challenging part of my disease, however, isn’t any of these things. It’s my knees. Both of my knees suffered meniscus tears and soft tissue injuries after my lipedema surgeries. My injuries quickly advanced into debilitating bilateral knee osteoarthritis.

That’s why everything is so hard now. I didn’t even make up our Christmas shelf for Sophie’s elf or put up a tree. Google has been showing me our Christmas season memories for previous years, and it’s depressing to see how much more I was able to manage before my knees made every bit of movement so difficult.

Six years ago, I would put up a big pink tree. It’s in my most recognizable profile picture today.

I gave our beautiful pink tree away with donations a couple of years ago when I realized it was too much for me to manage. Instead, we put up a much smaller purple tree. Sophie also put up paper chains.

Last year was pretty bad, mobility wise. I struggled each night to move her little Elf on the Shelf because I was in so much pain with my right knee.

This year, I’ve got even less mobility in both knees (I’m in the middle of treatments), and recovering from pneumonia. What I thought was so pitiful last year now looks like a dream.

So, we’ve put up an even smaller tabletop tree. The purple tree is in storage.

I haven’t been able to manage much for decorations, although I did knit her elf some little scarves. Sophie’s making more snowflakes and paper chains.

For me, it doesn’t really feel like Christmas without getting all our ornaments from the stage unit, but at the same time, I know I have to pick and choose my battles.

I’m trying not to mourn what used to be because this has been such a spectacularly difficult year since my left knee developed pain, and I’m also recovering from pneumonia.

I don’t plan on being this weak forever.

Thankfully, Sophie is happy with a tiny tree, at least for now, and her focus is more on the traditions we make for our actual Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

I want to give her something special at home to look forward to.

We read through the comments on my last story about other people’s Christmas dinner traditions, and all of the suggestions for us. Thank you! We appreciated the thoughts.

There was one response that I initially thought could never work for us (appetizers) that got me thinking. It triggered the Google search that ultimately led me to learn about Tiny Feasts.

I found this story on Southern Living and asked Sophie what she thought about it.

“Wait, it’s not just bite-sized foods but also small plates and silverware?” I could see my daughter’s immediate interest.

“That’s right,” I said. “We have a few tiny dishes and utensils we could use this year, and in the future, we could collect more. Maybe we can even find little Christmas teaware one day.”

Sophie was sold. She loves the idea of a tiny Christmas feast tradition that can be added to over the years.

For year, we’ll have to keep it petty simple, but I’ve printed out a small menu of recipes with just a few ingredients that Sophie’s excited to make together this weekend. When we make our fruit salad and veggie tray, we’re going to cut everything up very small and serve it from tiny dishes.

It’s still going to be a lot of work for me, and we probably won’t get to everything I’d like to do, but I think we’ll get to do enough to make the holiday very special to Sophie, and to give her something to look forward to in the future.

After all, that’s what all of this is about. We’ve had a really rough year, and my illness has taken a bad toll on so many of my abilities. It’s hard for a nine-year-old to see her mom suffer like that, and it’s hard for her to suffer through these periods when I can’t get out much at all.

Building new memories and having something to look forward to in the future makes all the difference in the world.

Thank you for reading. To directly support my writing, head over to Ko-fi or Substack. I’m also still crowdfunding for my ongoing lipedema/lipo-lymphedema treatments and complications.