It’s amazing how differently I see things now than when I was a child. Didn’t I love the craziness of the holidays, the baking, the anticipation of Santa, the presents, presents, presents? Wasn’t there a time in my life when everything was filled with joy for the entire month of December?
Now I only catch glimpses of this. I try so hard. Too hard, maybe. Not that I expect the holiday season to be perfect. I don’t–I’m way too jaded for that. But I try to make it as stress-free and seamless as possible. I pride myself on having all cards sent and gifts bought and wrapped by December first, because the next few weekends in December are for baking, parties, and school events.
I choose my gifts carefully. I listen to what the kids want and I try to get them for them. This year, Bruce made homemade candy and we both worked our butts off baking about 20 loaves of pumpkin bread. I handed pretty packages of bread and candy out to every single person in the office at school and all the teams that my students are on, as well as Isabella’s and Mythili’s teachers.
We even made an advent calendar out of felt. We worked hours on this the weekend of Thanksgiving, hot gluing numbers, cutting out ornaments to fit in the pockets, one for each day to put on the tree. The girls have even been well-behaved enough to keep the candy canes inside until after dinner each night.
Isabella and I went caroling with several Girl Scout troops. I thought that would do it–cure me of my holiday blues. I remember doing this as a child in my little town in upstate New York. Everyone came to the door and clapped, praised us. But as we walked from house to house last Friday, people who had their houses decked out with more lights than I could ever imagine hanging actually turned us down. Some people wouldn’t even come to the door. I guess they didn’t want to take 1 minute away from their televisions to listen to 50 little girls sing to them. It just about broke me. But I wouldn’t give up.
We went to Mindi’s annual cookie party, and as usual, it was a hit. Great food, great music, perfect timing for a party (4p—???). The girls and I prepared all day, baking chocolate chip, chocolate revel bars, and their favorites, gingerbread cutouts. I swore it wouldn’t take all day, but it did. Chilling the dough. Mixing the frosting and then dividing it into different bowls for various colors. Setting up baggies with cake decorating portals (whatever they’re called) and allowing them to make their messes. They loved it. They said they wanted to do it every year. But I was a bit tired and overwhelmed. So much cleanup and work for mediocre cookies.
Isabella had her party at school today. Wild 5- and 6-year-olds running around everywhere. Cookies to decorate. Crafts to glue. Goody bags to sift through, candy canes to crunch. Her eyes filled with joy, but the parents’ job? Cleanup. I must have scrubbed those little tables 20 times before the first layer of scum came off onto the miniature sponges the teacher gave me. And she received 3 goody bags filled with useless items such as tissue-paper-thin miniature notebooks, chocolate Santas, erasers that don’t erase, and cheap pencils.
Is this supposed to put me in a holiday mood? I want to collect her joy, to take the twinkles out of Mythili’s eyes as she proudly holds up the candy cane she received from Santa (who visited her preschool), to gather the grin from Riona’s face as she tells me she wants a Christmas tree for Christmas… but I still have the reality of life hovering over me, the bills, the worry about overindulging my kids, the knowledge that everything comes with a price, whether it be in dollars or work.
Six days till Christmas. I’m going to make it. I’m going to remember my excitement from childhood Christmas mornings, waking so early that the stars still stung the sky with their winter brilliance. I’m going to look outside at the snow that has finally begun to trickle down and sing my Bing Crosby melody. I’m going to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze their tiny, thrilled bodies until their naivete seeps through their skin and into my heart. And I’m going to find my holiday mood.
