The Christmas feast is always turkey. Or it's always roast beef. There's always a mincemeat pie. Nobody ever eats it. And so on.
Traditions are wonderful.
Ritual comforts, but it can defeat sanity if it becomes a to-do list, a chore. Our family has a ritual that I find sanity-preserving. It comes Christmas Eve, when Christmasoholics can be drained physically and emotionally from chasing down perfect presents, perfect gift wraps, perfect cards, perfect decorations, perfect meal ingredients. We declare an armistice about 2 p.m. Christmas Eve. Meals to be eaten, toasts to be lifted, carols to be sung.