Site icon Magpie by Jen Shoop

Smidgies.

Last week, I told my mother that I felt like I’d lost a week of the holiday season owing to the stomach bug, and that I was rushing to make up for lost time. I hadn’t yet picked up gifts for our teachers or cleaning crew; the batch of sugar cut-out cookies we made on Saturday (recipe here) had to be tossed (we’d not yet frosted them, but we couldn’t have delivered them anyway given our viral state) and so we’d not yet made let alone passed out cookies for our neighbors; we were attending an annual holiday gathering late last week to which I normally bring some sort of homemade treat, but I’d run out of time; our designated gift wrap night had come and gone, neither of us able to muscle the energy to wrap (let alone mix up a cocktail – blech). We also have not lit the Advent wreath in a full week. I told my mom — more to convince myself than her — “But you know what? Things will get done, or they won’t, or they’ll happen after the new year.” As soon as I said it, I realized I’d hit on something. Yep. Who cares if the Christmas cards arrive a few days late? Or gifts are delivered on New Year’s? Or you hand out your cookies as a 2024 surprise? And I wish we’d lit the Avent wreath every night but the truth was that all of us were drained and needed to do the bare minimum to get by.

I mean, obviously, it’d be better to accomplish these things during the designated season but…! No one is getting injured if the cookies arrive as a post-season treat.

As the concept clarified, I realized what I needed to do was draw up a list of non-negotiables (e.g., I must get the gifts for our teachers and cleaners – they deserve it, and in a timely fashion) and what I intuitively referred to as “smidgies” (things that are a bit more fungible, like when and whether we deliver cookies).

I’m pocketing this concept for regular use. Here are some other good applications, again talking more to myself than anyone else, as I’ve basically sprained my ankle (and spirit) attempting to do every last one, not recognizing they were “smidgies”:

+Do the cupcakes for your son’s pre-k classroom birthday need to be homemade and elaborated frosted to resemble Elmo? No. You can buy the inexpensive (mini!!!) ones from the local grocery. Kids will be just as happy, and you can often find allergy-free ones to boot.

+Do you need to iron your sheets? No. You are just going to sleep in them. Nice to have but inessential and possibly obstructive to the art of living. I was reflecting on this the other week while making our bed. I used to insist on ironing our sheets when we lived in NYC. Insist. And, don’t get me wrong: freshly-laundered, freshly-ironed sheets are a spectacular luxury. But I think that it was my very small, likely misdirected, way of keeping my tiny corner of Manhattan clean and organized, as the rest of the city felt so wild and dirty. You’d be out there, in the begrudging elements, shouldering your way through the city and its occasional heartlessness, and you’d need to make your home a sanctuary in any way you could. And you had such a small space that you’d find yourself lavishing attention on each corner, maximizing its use, its peacefulness, its promise. In Bethesda, we can close a door on a full basement of scattered toys and discarded children’s clothing. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.” In New York, you live in every inch of your living space. There is no place to cordon off and look at tomorrow. Your children play in your TV room; your kitchen is not just your kitchen but another foot in which to find privacy. Your bed is one of the few places that is solely your own, and that you can keep as you wish. Anyway, I say this to make sense of my erstwhile ironing insistence, but now have the space to see that this is a definite smidgie in my current life. Something I’m glad to have let drop.

+Do you need your children to be perfectly dressed according to your own view? No. I’ve talked at length about this. I wish they would, but I prioritize their comfort and senses of selves and taste more. It’s OK if your kid is wearing the tutu for the fourth day, or the grubby t-shirt instead of the polo you’d bought. Better, I think, to protect your energy for other battles. (Again, underscoring I’m saying this to myself, as I’m still a work in progress here.)

What other smidgies can we unearth here?

I think this conversation is timely given the week. Like, now is probably not the time to start a new fitness regimen or begin to redecorate the living room or roll out a new, veggie-forward approach to feeding your children. We can take those on in 2024.

Are there smidgies this week that you can let drop?

Post-Scripts.

*Image above old, but there will be a lot of toaster waffles and “Grinch” viewings this week (exactly what was happening two Christmases ago, per the photo evidence above).

+This is another way of saying: there is probably room in my life to make space for better/more important things.

+Dear Dad, you were right.

+Don’t eat the caesar salad, or remembrances of my grandfather.

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Shopping Break.

This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.

+This $26 Amazon sweater is a great look-for-less for Jenni Kayne’s Cooper, which was JUST re-stocked after being sold out for awhile, and is currently 20% off with code HOLIDAY.

+Last-minute stocking stuffers for littles, all available via Prime (therefore saving you a trip to the store): Plus Plus tubes, sparkly headband, Washi tape (a Busy Toddler idea), Lego keychain, Ooly gel crayons.

+Very intrigued by these jeans. Not my usual style but I’ve heard the fit is amazing. Loving the cuffed look.

+If you have children, do yourself a favor and buy a pack of these zippered pouches in advance of Christmas. Great for corraling parts of sets together (markers, stamps, legos, doll accessories, puzzle pieces). I always wish we had more of these after the holidays! More under-$50 gifts and stocking stuffers here, but not all guaranteed for Christmas delivery.

+This dress is a party.

+Cheerful fair isle for your little girl.

+Fun hair clip. This was a Beach Reads and Bubbly find!

+Tis the season…for hydration. I’ve been refilling my water bottle every hour and carrying it with me all over.

+Every year, I think I’ll find a chic-er, more high-end option, but I straight-up love this no-frills planner. Lots of room for my never-ending daily to-do lists.

+CHIC ski wear.

+A GREAT Mango buy.

+Adorable reversible vest for a little.

+These terry-cloth pullovers are cute for your dude. Mr. Magpie owns a few of the brand’s short-sleeved polo style; love the idea of adding this to the rotation.

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