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Ziggy received a text from Weezy this morning. A simple 4 word message to start the day:

"Mom is the WORST"

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You might chalk this up to teenage rebellion (14 year old girls excel in this area), but there was, in fact, a reason. It was December 24th, the day we shoot the annual Montoya Holiday Video.

In our family of four (not counting the furry ones), three of us will ham it up at the drop of a hat. The remaining one slumps mortified on the sidelines, loudly expressing her absolute distain and rejection of everything about the situation.

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As a survivor of the 80's, overachieving was my first language.

I do my best to not layer that narrative on my own kids, allowing them the space to experiment with who they are. Trying on different aspects of personality, learning new skills, and encouraging them to change with their evolving interests (except, of course, if we have paid for a full 6 week session in which case they're going to those classes until we're done). In my work with movement and mindfulness, I've learned that resistance often carries wisdom – but sometimes, as with our eccentric holiday tradition, the wisdom lies in pushing through that resistance.

For most problems there isn't a singular "right answer." Usually we strive to find a way to approach a tough situation that allows everyone to feel like they got their needs met, much like finding that sweet spot in a challenging routine where effort meets ease. But sometimes that balance just isn't available.

From my perspective, our holiday video stands as a replacement for the professional family photos that usually adorn both Christmas Cards and a 4X6 expanse of hallway (usually on the way to the bathroom). Iran and I don't prioritize documentation of our personal lives, so this is one way we have found to create a touchstone for our existence. Most importantly, one that we can easily send to everyone we know. So the easy option of giving Weezy a hall pass would mean that she wouldn't appear in the ONE thing that we do as a family to ensure that we'll never have to rescue dozens of photo albums in case of evacuation.

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And yet, I find myself resonating with Louisiana's "meh-ness" about this year's festivities.

To quote a salient meme, "Christmas just hasn't been Christmasing." Chalk it up to global warming, inflation, grief for the loss of hope for all of humanity, or because Christmas and New Years both are happening on Wednesday this year, which really messes up the work schedule (it's probably a combination of factors, really). In my field, I am constantly encouraging people to listen to their inner voices and take those energetic needs into consideration. So what happens when those voices pull a Cartman and say "Screw you guys, I'm going home "?

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Well, we went ahead and made the video anyhow. Because we KNOW it brings you joy. And it brings us joy too.

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The effort to find the right song, the changing of costumes, the choice of locations... it's all a hilarious and perfectly stressful way to spend the day before Christmas. And the night is spent in a familiar space - with Iran masterminding the wrapping of presents, and me with blue light glasses on my laptop, editing like a fiend. Truthfully it's been quite refreshing to care so passionately about something of such little impact on the narrative arc of human civilization.

Except... this year we're giving you something special.

The gift of closure.

There is a natural rhythm to our lives, something that as movement practitioners, we intimately understand. An ebb and flow of tension and release. The foreshadowing, climax, and denouement. In music, this pattern is expressed through intro, verse, refrain, eventual instrumental, hopefully a buildup at some point, and then the outro/fade. If we don't have this, we get caught in a literal loop. The song that never ends, replaying itself in our minds like a perpetual ear worm.

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Enter: Little Drummer Boy – the Christmas song we love to hate.

Why? It's simple. It's a relatively decent melody that lacks most of what I described above. It's nearly impossible to discern refrain from verse, there is NO clear climax - but possibly up to 3 key changes, and instead of giving us a decent exit, it just fades away... and away... and away... So when this one showed up on our "Montoya bingo card" I called a friend for a favor. For 5 hours, Hanif Wondir and I layered tracks, overanalyzing BPM from Boney M to Busta Rhymes. With just enough Justin Bieber hype to give the drummer boy a snare, and Missy Elliot to seal the deal. And the next day we brought the vision to life.

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So, to quote the ineffable Busta Rhymes:

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"Merry Christmas, Kwanza, Happy Hanukkah"

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Whatever you celebrate, I hope that it gives you all the satisfaction and closure you need.

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I'll see you in the new year!

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Domini Anne

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