We've all suffered through it at some time or another . . . that unhappy feeling that follows all the excitement, parties, and joy of the Christmas season. As a child, I remember dreading New Year's Day when we all labored under my mother's steadfast rule that all decorations were to come down January 1st, no matter how late you stayed up or how much "fun" the adults had the night before. It was usually a day filled with chores and grumpiness, made even worse if it was your last day of freedom before returning to school.
Now that I get to make up my own decorating rules, I start bedecking the house immediately following Thanksgiving and refuse to remove the tree or nativity until at least after Three Kings' Day. That has helped to somewhat remove my angst and winter-blues after weeks filled with family, friends, and never-ending desserts. This year, however, has been different. Our tree just came down last night. Yep, that's right, January 22nd.
I think I've had a more difficult time this year because Christmas was just so wonderful. It was our third child's first, which always makes it special. When the tree first went up, she kept pointing at it and laughing, as if to say, "Look what the crazy adults have down now. They think a real tree belongs in the house!" Of course, a baby's delight in ripping tissue paper into minuscule pieces is always infectious. While that wonderment is enough of a reason to make the holidays special, this time it was more than that.
During Christmas break, our usual joyous, adventurous, smiling, good-natured eldest child returned. Oh, she had never left home, not in body at least. But during the first four months of her third grade year, our daughter, who had always been called "Sunshine" by her teachers, turned into a crying, insecure mess, constantly believing she was not good enough or melting down because she was no longer sure what was expected of her. My husband and I have watched our outgoing, self-assured child become a stranger, at least concerning all things school-related.
No, we did not sit idly by and let this happen. We've had numerous meetings with teachers and administrators trying to find out what is going on. We were shocked, quite frankly, because our sweet little Christian school was so phenomenal for both first and second grade. In fact, I sang the school's praises to any and all who would listen. I looked with shock upon people who could afford the school and yet did not even consider sending their children to such a fine institution. My favorite saying was, "Every time I thought nothing better could happen at school, something even more amazing came along." Enter a new administration.
There are always going to be bumps in the road when changes take place in school leadership, and I prepared myself for that. What I did not expect was a change in the ethos, or culture of the school. Our happiest academic place on earth changed into an institution where any parents or teachers who disagreed or questioned change were belittled and demoralized until they gave up the fight. The bright side? All this unhappiness led me to reexamine myself as a parent. I've become more patient and found ways to turn just about anything into a fun learning opportunity. Above all, I am determined that my child will not lose her love of learning.
And that, my friends, brings my story back full circle to the Christmas tree. It may just be a symbol, but it represents how happy my child can be, of joyous moments discussing the birth of Christ while unknowingly learning multiplication as we increased our cookie recipe. That Frasier fir reminds me of her excitement at finishing another Harry Potter book and starting on #5. Most of all, it gives me hope of how great our daughter's education can be if we, as parents, maintain a central role.
As for the fate of the tree . . . it is out of the house, but now I'm letting the neighborhood children decorate it with homemade bird feeders. That way, I think I can hold onto the happiness at least through February.
