This morning, while preparing breakfast for G, I found myself singing Christmas songs. It started with Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, then Frosty, followed by a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells. While many may find this normal round this time of year, for me, it's downright bizarre.
Why? I really do not like the holiday season. There. I said it. I'm a complete 'Bah Humbug.' I wasn't always this way, but over the last ten years or so, it's slowly but surely happened. Between too many family engagements, expectations, bratty kids who open your gift and chuck it to the side for the next, I've seriously gone to the dark side.
Maybe it's because the holiday season is shoved down your throat starting in, say, September? Or watching people who clearly cannot afford lavish presents go into serious debt to keep up appearances?
So honestly, I probably don't dislike the 'ideals' surrounding the holidays. I actually quite like the fuzzy, snuggly warm stuff that goes along with Christmas. I love the food. I love visiting with relatives.
Unfortunately, it seems that our holidays have become consumed with schedules. Trips to the mall where you literally get hip checked while browsing because you're not moving fast enough. I can't enter a mall this time of year without breaking a sweat. People are angry and frantic. So much for a peaceful and joyous holiday, right?
I have so many wonderful memories of Christmas as a kid. Decorating sugar cookies (eating frosting, mostly). Mom and Dad pulling out the huge bins of decorations and spending a whole Sunday decorating and slowly mulling over each piece, because they all had a memory attached. Going up to the woods and cutting down a tree. Watching 'A Christmas Story' (okay, I still do that).
It makes me wonder if my parents felt like I do and just sucked it up to make us happy? I so very much want my child to have wonderful holiday memories. Not necessarily of things, but of time spent together.
I'm thinking the involuntary singing of Christmas songs this morning could be me subconsciously attempting to get into the holiday spirit, for the kiddo. Who knows? Maybe I'll even feel like decorating the house this year. Clark Griswold style.
Next thing you know I'll be wearing this:
And at that point, you have my permission to kick my ass.