I don't know what it is about Christmas, but it was never really a holiday I could get into. Halloween, with all its creepy ceremony and tradition--the candy, the spookiness, the decorations, the costumes--is way more my speed, followed by Thanksgiving and all its good food. While I remember being jazzed about Santa and loads of presents as a kid, once that illusion was shattered for me the day became one tense, long day with lots of family, back and forth between parents and not much fun. I never understood why my mom wanted to put up a tree every year when it was such a pain to unpack all the ornaments and then repack them in a month or so. Why all the temporary decor? And why is it all so ugly?
Maybe it's having a kid, or maybe it's having my own house, but this year my inner scrooge is being beaten back by a burgeoning Christmas spirit. Granted, it's more the kitsch of it all than the Christ, but I'm kind of digging the opportunity to start some family tradition, buy some quirky ornaments and make this holiday my own. We have a red fake aluminum tree, a flaming tree skirt and a wacked out angel on top, and I've accumluated some family treasures and new additions to throw about the house. There are creepy elves from Nate's grandma on the stairs, some more elves beneath the tree and some carefully placed lights here and there to give the house a festive air. I made stockings out of a vintage bedspread, some fuzzy pom-poms and some colorful material scraps, and I've even wrapped presents for darling C., although her motor skills aren't developed enough to open them. Last night as we were falling asleep, I tried to think of some new traditions to start. Should we go out to a Chinese restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner? Should we leave for a Christmas adventure after opening gifts (in my mind this means Rome, but in reality this year it would be more like Grand Rapids)? Should I start some sort of collection for Clementine and add to it each Christmas? It's fun to think of all the possibilities.
I suppose this is a predictable outcome of having a family--it sort of breathes life back into things my jaded, independent existence had long since made irrelevant. Of course I could also be falling for the glossy Christmas card sentiment that this is the time all normal people of the world focus on family and tradition. Am I a total sellout for getting on the bandwagon, even if it is with ragged, hand-made stockings, a wacky tree and no religious connotation whatsoever? Hell, what does it matter? I'm mysteriously full of some sort of holiday spirit, and I'm determined not to overthink it. Tomorrow starts the first Christmas of my mommy life, and I'm going to find a memorable way for us all to celebrate.
1 comment:
Do start an ornament collection. My parents did that--Mom put at least one ornament per year in--and by the time I got my first 8' tree in Ithaca I had enough to cover the whole thing. And they all have stories, things like the little plastic loch ness monster I bought when I studied abroad, or the Wonder Woman ornament I have (she always gets to lasso the monster, by the way).
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