Ah, December. A time of friends and family, of warm evenings curled up by the fire with a mug of cocoa while snow falls outside, of goodwill and giving, of sparkling lights and pine-scented bows.
In theory.
It certainly was when I was younger. My sister and I used to make chains of paper rings, enough to get us from whenever it was through Christmas, and on the inside of each ring we’d write something nice to accomplish, and we’d tear one off each day and give it a go.
We’d watch holiday specials, go caroling, and spend hours decorating the tree and setting up each little Christmas thing we could find. When we finished, it looked like Christmas had thrown up all over our house. (Enthusiastic, yes. Tidy or tasteful? No.)
But now…
Now it seems like even Christmas is just too much of a bother. I still look forward to it every year, and I love coming up with presents for my friends and family, but it seems so much harder to get into the spirit of things, and it falls by the wayside.
I put our $12 pre-lit tree (ugh) up two weeks ago, and it’s still ornament-free. I dislike the tree itself, but it is easier than either tracking down a permit to cut down a real tree in the forest (the area moves every year to help decrease the risk of wild fires) and cheaper than going to the store and buying a farmed one. Look at me! I used to love Christmas tree cutting. Easily the highlight of the season. My whole extended family would get permits, and we’d caravan into the woods, park, hunt down our trees, and then have a lovely tailgate party with fried chicken, cocoa, and donuts.
And now I have an ugly fake thing whose only selling point is that I don’t have to put lights on it.
Around work, and caring for my family, it seems like I can barely get the basics (tree, Christmas cards, present wrapping) done. Where has the joy of the season gone? Why can’t I get into it like I did when I was younger?
Why does being an adult have to suck so much?
When my child is old enough to care, does Christmas get better? Will it feel real again when I can see the joy in his eyes at a large, overly decorated tree? At the stockings hung by the fire, at the promise of Santa coming down the chimney?
Or is it just another level of stress? Worrying about whether or not to let your child believe in Santa, braving crowds to have him sit on a man in a suit’s lap, hiding presents and making sure he’s asleep before Santa visits?
Man, cynicism. Where’d you come from?
Here I sit. It’s exactly two weeks til Christmas. I have a mug of peppermint cocoa, and it snowed last night. I still have a few friends to get presents for. My cards are sent. Why is it that all I can think about is the amount of work I still have to do today?
I know Christmas itself will be lovely. We’ll spend time with loved ones, sing carols, eat too much. We might drive around and look at everyone’s Christmas lights and watch Holiday Inn on TV.
But I wish I could get a little bit of the spirit back right now.