And, once a year this Tigger inside of me turns into an ELF. Christmas cards, decorations in and out, ribbon (I love ribbon), wrapping paper, Santas, Santas everywhere and packages. I am a lover of Christmas.
I love to belt out with Josh Groban in my car, "O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining..." and "Angels we have heard on high...". Carpenters Christmas CD along with Charlie Brown Christmas CD is popped into my CD player the first Monday after Thanksgiving.
And I love nativity sets. I love carved ones, small ones, big ones and homemade ones. I love to see the sweet smile on Mary's face and the little baby Jesus.
This year, instead of Tigger, I am the Grinch at the top of the mountain with a sleigh full of presents, hand up to my ear, waiting to hear the Whos from Who-Ville shriek because there is no Christmas.
I have no Joy. I have no spirit. Where is my Christmas?
Maybe I am homesick? Maybe I miss my babies on Santa's lap? Instead of a list for Santa, I got a text list from one with the images that were desired, sizes, Cyber Monday price reductions and order of preference. Ugh.
In the past fourteen days, I have been overcome with "I need cheese dip for the Christmas event," "I need a White Elephant gift", "I need a sweater, garland and an image of Trump for a Christmas sweater contest", "I need to take an appetizer", "we need more lights", "we need to go to the party and take cookies", and "we need to bring pizza to another Christmas party."
When did Christmas become so supersized and so Amazon Primed? What happened to simplicity?
What happened to getting in your jammies, sitting in front of the television, quietly, with a cup of real hot chocolate watching Rudolph or Frosty and Charlie Brown? Those three shows were the highlight of your year. The anticipation of seeing that snowman come down the hill on the razor...amazing. All of the technology in the world does not bring the magic of those three shows.
When I was in grade school, there were two parties per year, Christmas and Valentine's Day. Only two. I considered snagging the Life Saver Story Book in the Christmas grab bag. I never snagged it. I saw it in the store today and still admired it. Six rolls of Lifesavers. It would have been like getting a bike. Just two parties at school and your birthday. Celebration abstinence.
And maybe, after the school party, you might have had a girl scout party but that was it. Nothing else.
And we had a Christmas tree. A real one. Nothing really special, but we thought it was. Not a themed tree (not until the late 70's when my mom got orange carpet and decided to use orange balls too). Handmade ornaments. A ceramic Santa and the ceramic Christmas tree. Stockings that had our names in glitter (the only thing I ever owned with glitter) and a wreath.
My mom made sure we always had a hair cut, regardless if it was needed or not for the holiday season and a red mocked turtle neck. It was amazing how many outfits she could create for us with those red mocked t's.
The Sears and the JC Penny catalogues came and it was kid porn. Amazing. Amazing. I bent my little corners down one way and my brother bent them the other...just so we knew what page was admired by whom.
And then, somewhere in the Christmas Season, my mom would whip out the giant Tupperware container, some wax paper and a zillion jimmies and we knew the baking extravaganza was about to happen. My mom, my Aunt Judy, my Mamaw and Mona would have the giant bake-off. One entire day of baking. No apps, just handwritten recipes, no microwaves, no matching monogrammed aprons, just ovens and mixers. And jimmies.
We would get home from school and be in cookie heaven. Eight different kinds of cookies. I can still remember the wax paper separating the layers in the Tupperware or in the tins. And the sugar cookies. Always cut out in the shape of a Santa with a Sack, holly leaf, bell or stocking. With jimmies. I love jimmies.
My mom would pass out those cookies lovingly to the mailman, the milkman (he was so hot) and neighbors who would come to visit.
When we got home that day, we were allowed two cookies. Apricot and most likely molasses for me. Todd always picks Pitzels. Always.
Christmas eve was always about the big gift exchange and meal (feast) that rotated between our house and my Aunt Judy's. One person at a time, youngest first, opening presents. No doubt, as a child, this was my second favorite day of the year. We followed the gift exchange with a meal together and then off to church.
And then, the entire town lit white bag luminaries before going to church. Just white bags, sand and candles. No LED lights or plastic containers, just white bags with a candle against the winter sky. I loved coming home from church looking at those luminaries lining all the streets in our small town.
Christmas day was a few gifts...a light brite, 8 track player, roller skates and matching case...never anything over the top, but the three big things we picked from the JC Penny Wish book.
And then, Christmas day, we went to Mamaws with one toy each. Just one toy, and a basement with creaky stairs to eat in. No selfie sticks, instead a KODAK instamatic with the chunky flash cubes.
It was simple. Calming.
Those days after Christmas we ate turkey sandwiches, turkey salad and turkey soup, hot turkey and gravy sandwiches ham sandwiches.
And we built jigsaw puzzles. As a family. My mom made real hot chocolate, the recipe on the Hershey Cocoa tin with marshmallows.
Seriously, no cruises, not fifty parties with cheese dips, nothing over the top. Our house had lights on it and a wreath. We also had big greeting card that my grandfather made that said "Season's Greetings from the Bahneman's" with a spotlight. You couldn't see us from space, just from your car.
And, from my frosted bedroom window, I would look out at the star on top of the coal hill in Export, in awe. I loved that star. Just a simple star. There were so many nights, so many Christmas nights that I would look out my window, after scraping the frost on the inside with my fingernail, at that star. A simple star. I loved that simple star.
Why aren't things plain and simple like that star anymore? Am I just getting old? What is with all the fuss? Is it social media? Do we secretly feel pressured to keep everything on such grand scales? Has Pintrest sucked the simplicity out of everything? Is a non-themed Christmas tree a thing of the past since the emergence of Pintrest.
Does everything have to be over the top?
I feel so horrible saying I don't feel joy. I have my parents, my husband, my kids, a blessed life. I have been blessed.
No tree. No cards, cookies, no spunk. And where is the Christmas music? Cannot find it. ugh. "Where are you Christmas, do you remember?"
Tonight Addie said to me, "we need to get into the spirit mom. We should get a tree."
We drove into the lot and left. We were not feeling it.
After I dropped her off at dance, I went back to the lot. I had to get a tree. What kind of mother was I to not put a tree up? So I sucked it up and bought the smallest, skinniest tree on the lot.
The tree was so small it didn't fit into any of the three tree stands and ended up on the floor. And of course that triggered one of those wonderful holiday marital disputes. ugh. At least we got the holiday fight out of the way. This Christmas tree fight will be one we rehash for years.
I got up and headed to work today for the Holiday Party at work. I broke out my Christmas blouse. No lie, the blouse is 25 years old. I put it on and out the door I went.
And again, I went through the motions.
It was tonight, on the way home, in a Dollar Tree that jarred my heart.
I went down the aisle looking for gift bags and there he was, an adorable little guy. Four maybe and adorable. He was standing where I needed to be and as I approached him, I noticed his cute little guy teeth, dimples and clean tennis shoes. He was adorable. I reached for the bags and he says, "Do you know Christmas is coming?"
"Yes I do. What are you getting for Christmas?"
"A baby." I look up and there is his mom. "My water will no doubt break in the Dollar Tree because I am very, very, surely 11 months pregnant" mom. It all made sense. A baby.
"Well how lucky are you? A new baby? How awesome. I am so happy for you. You will be a great big brother I am sure of it."
He looks at me, head tilted, ENOURMOUS eyes, (this kid was commercial worthy cute) and says, "that is why we have Christmas. Love and life. "
And there, in the Dollar Tree, not on top of the mountain, not with the the sweet voices of Whos, my heart swelled. Love and life. Really, it is that simple. He was my Linus in my Charlie Brown life.
I looked down at that sweet boy and said, "Merry Christmas and I hope that baby comes soon."
"Yes mam."
I paid for my bags and got into the car.
I turned the radio on and heard the tale end of my least favorite Christmas song...something about Grandma.
And then, there it was, Faith Hill, "Where are you Christmas?"
No way, hadn't heard it all season and she was belting it out.
I am certain God sent me into that Dollar Tree and put that little angel in my aisle.
Love and life. I get that. It truly is that simple.
I came home and doctored our little tree and put some love into it. It is lovely, small but lovely. Simple.
Kind of like that little guy in the Dollar Tree...my Christmas Angel.
Go Celebrate love and life.
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