I love the holidays. I love selecting the gifts, the decorating, the anticipation, the food (my pants will attest to my love of the food), the time with family. All of it. And of course we know that even happy times that bring with them a disruption of the regular schedule can be stressful, too. Obviously.

In general I like to think that I'm pretty good at weathering those stressors by focusing on the stuff about the holidays I love. I do my best to step aside from the various family skirmishes about who's responsible for bringing what. I have long ago given up on creating the "perfect" experience for my kids, and have settled for reveling in each little joy, no matter when and where it comes.

This year, though, I've decided to go one better: This year I am solemnly pledging not to hold a holiday grudge.

I think that the way it happens is somewhat insidious; I'm going along, rolling with the variation activities and expectations and whatnot, and I'm the one talking others off the ledge about how "So-and-so is cooking this year and everyone knows it's my year to cook," or how "We're driving again because they never travel," and everything is fine... until it's not.

I forgive the family blow-outs. I forgive the busyness of friends. I'm likely to be very generous with my forgiveness about the big, obvious things. What waylays me, year after year, is a small slight that somehow, in my mind, becomes unforgivable. And then I nurse a big ol' grudge about it.

Because I'm so mature.

It wasn't until we started making arrangements for this upcoming holiday season, the last few weeks, that I came to grips with the fact that I was still miffed about the family member who never thanked me for the very specific gift I provided -- one that was practically demanded as the only acceptable item. I'm big on politeness, and the failure to even drop an email (I don't need embossed stationery, here, just some sort of acknowledgment) to say, "Hey, thanks!" just burned me up. Completely. For almost a year.

Because I'm so mature.

The year before that, something similarly inconsequential happened and drew my unending ire for the better part of the year, too. And the year before that. In fact, all these years I was congratulating myself on not getting worked up about all of the typical holiday stress? I was still managing to latch onto something and use it as the ignition for a slow, steady simmer.

This year, I refuse. I won't do it. It's ridiculous. While the affronts may be real, staying annoyed about them for an entire year is ludicrous. And so I hereby issue a formal declaration: While I don't do New Year's Resolutions, come January 1st I am going to let go of anything that happens this holiday season that rubs me the wrong way. Because the holidays are stressful for everyone, and things are going to happen, and people are going to be rude/thoughtless/stupid (myself included!), and then I'm going to leave it in the past. If I want to be resentful, fine. But I need to get it out of my system in a timely manner. No grudges allowed.

(Also: No fruitcake. But I think that goes without saying.)

How about you? Is there anything you're ready to declare won't be a part of your holidays this year?

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.