xmas countdown: 12 more sleeps

It Won't Be Long 'Til Christmas - Diana Ross & The Supremes

A few days ago someone asked me, “Do most people care about their families?”

They often ask direct questions like that, always with this confident, curious tone, as if they expect that I’ll have a useful answer. I typically enjoy scrambling for one. “Um, I think so? Your family often look after you when you’re really little and kind of vulnerable, right? Before you can look after yourself. So maybe there’s a kind of trust there, that kids develop for their relatives. And, like, there’s an obvious biological thing, where most parents care about their children.”

This song is about parents caring about their children, but knowing that the most strategic thing might not be to show it:

Let them go, let them go,

Let them spread their wings

Little birds were born to fly

Not until they roam can they miss their home

And it won’t be long ‘til Christmas

When I was thirteen, I read Uncommon Sense for Parents with Teenagers, one of the books that my middle school had recommended to all the parents of the incoming Grade 7 class. It felt deliciously precocious to finish my parents’ parenting books before they did. Here’s a quote:

Until this point, you have acted as a "manager" in your child's life: arranging rides and doctor appointments, planning outside or weekend activities, helping with and checking on homework. You stay closely informed about school life, and you are usually the first person your child seeks out with big questions. Suddenly, none of this is applicable. Without notification, and without consensus, you are fired from the role of manager. Now you must scramble and restrategize; if you are to have meaningful influence in your teenager's life through adolescence and beyond, then you must work your tail off to get rehired as a consultant.

That seems true, and terribly unfair. Without notification, and without consensus, you are fired. Having to ask oh-so-gently for your children’s attention, when they used to be utterly transfixed by you.

The years go by

And every night you'll say

Sweet dreams, sleep tight

Then there comes the day

You're forced to say

Don't forget to write

By the time you graduate high school, you’ve already spent the majority of the time you’ll spend with your parents. (Tim Urban estimates 93% of it.)
 

Not every parent is worth spending time with; not every family is worth caring about. Mine is, though. I do forget to write (...and call, and text). I feel sorry about that. Sometimes.

At least it won’t be long ‘til Christmas—a week until I’m on a plane home.

- Tessa

PS: this song is from the never-released (never-completed?) album Diana Ross & The Supremes Sing Disney Classics. First, I’m upset that I don’t have a full album of Supreme Disney. Second- this song is a Disney classic? I guess? It’s from the movie The Happiest Millionaire, which is the last Disney movie that Walt himself ever worked on. (He died during filming.)