The Weight of Expectation

The lead-up to Christmas can sometimes feel like a battlefield. I catch myself avoiding shops with my children, not because I don’t want them to enjoy the festive displays, but because of what happens after. Every trip feels like stepping into a glittering sea of “want,” as though the sheer abundance of shiny, new things drains the magic from the season.

It’s frustrating. The thoughtful part of gift-giving—the moments spent imagining the perfect thing for someone—is overshadowed by the endless “I want that!” lists. I see it in my children, but I feel it too: a creeping sense of disappointment. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t (and don’t want to) buy them everything they see.

And there’s so much stuff. Everywhere. Toys that blink and talk and promise fleeting excitement. Gadgets that no one remembers come January. It’s overwhelming. The meaning behind the gifts risks being swallowed by the sheer volume of it all, where the joy of giving is lost in the frenzy of having.

It makes me wonder where I went wrong as a parent always. What is the meaning of all of this and how do I find it? I have no idea., but I know that sometimes when I shield them from all of this I’m somehow doing the right thing in helping them and me find what really matters.