Monday, November 7, 2011

Scrooge McGrump.

When I was a kid my mom and grandma decorated for every holiday. We put our American flags out for every patriotic holiday, there were special cookie jars for Valentine's day and halloween, and there were ceramic figurines that we painted for Halloween and Easter. Christmas was an event all its own. Decorating the tree was always a big affair. My mom would take an entire day and unwrap each ornament one by one and find the exact right spot on the tree. She would enlist our help to make it a family affair, but then after we went to bed she'd rearrange all the ornaments to her liking. As a child, I loved the fourth of July but there was something special about Christmas. Even to this day there is a feeling of magic that surrounds it, and I can't picture a Christmas tree without thinking of snow, hot chocolate, warm air smelling like cinnamon buns and my family parked in front of the fireplace.

The week before Halloween, my mom unpacked those same ceramic figurines that we decorated as kids and pulled out her special cookie jar. It was then that I realized this is the first year that I get to decorate an entire house by myself. Eric and I purchased our home at the beginning of the summer and even then I was ecstatic about the idea of having our own Christmas tree for the first time.

I started stocking up around Halloween. I bought material to make my own wreath to hang on the door. I bought a nativity set that I love, even though the baby Jesus looks like an elf. I bought a little block sculpture that says "Happy Holidays" and has snowmen posing as some of the letters. I put out the Santa Claus that my grandpa carved for Clara and as soon as I get it from my mom's house I will pair it with the larger Santa he carved for me. I bought an ornament to commemorate Clara's first Christmas, and I plan to hit up World Market after Thanksgiving to get some more beautiful ornaments. And I've been Christmas tree shopping for about a month now.

The point is that I could not be happier about decorating for the holidays because there's no time of year that makes me happier and I want to revel in that feeling as long as possible. I'm that person. I'm the person who doesn't skip past the Christmas carols when they come on my mp3 player in July. I'm the person who doesn't bitch when stores put out Christmas decorations in August. I'm the person who gets their Christmas shopping done way before Thanksgiving (this year I set my own personal record and finished before Halloween). I'm the person most people probably hate. I can't help it, and I'm not ashamed of it. It makes me so sad to hear other people complain about Christmas or other winter holidays as being commercialized, or that they hate Christmas carols or that Thanksgiving just doesn't have a chance because of consumer craziness. WHATEVER, SCROOGE. You don't have to like Christmas, but do you have to try and ruin it for the people who look past all that media-driven madness? And for the record, I do enjoy Thanksgiving very much, but in my mind I kind of lump it in with Christmas in terms of decorating and well-wishing. Don't like it? Blame the pilgrims. They shouldn't have chosen such a close date to Christmas for slaughtering the Indians and conducting witch hunts.

I once read somewhere that Christmas is a child's holiday. I'm not sure what the author of that sentiment meant, and come to think of it, they probably meant it as an insult, but I agree for other reasons. When I remember being a child at Christmas, I can't think of any time in my life that made me happier. Not because of presents--even as a little girl I loved shopping for other people and watching someone open a gift I picked out for them was the greatest thrill of my life. Still is. There is a sense of wonderment not entirely related to Santa Claus that possesses children around Christmas. Snowflakes, sugar plum fairies, hot cocoa... what's not to love about that? I hope that I never lose that sense of wonderment and warmth that comes back to me during the winter holidays, and I can only hope that I can pass that on to my daughter, along with the decorating tradition.

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