Is it just me?
I’ve been having such a hard time finding my Christmas spirit this year. Maybe it’s work stress, or the pushy people shopping, or that this was always Mom’s holiday and she isn’t here again. I don’t know. I’ve been looking for it everywhere.
We decided not to put up the Christmas tree until the 23rd. Okay, not because we lack the holiday vibe, but because Stitch (otherwise known as “the damn cat”) will only try climbing it and knocking all the ornaments off it…again.
This isn’t him, but you get the idea.
We’ve never put lights on the outside of the house either. They’d look really pretty, especially with a light dusting of snow, but then I think of the hydro bill and shudder. So instead, I rely on the neighbours down the street. They have holiday spirit, and decorations, to spare. You can’t hear it, but the house on the left has music.
I will say this. I almost finished my shopping and the stocking stuffers last week. One last thing to pick up for my son and I’ll be done. I had enough energy afterwards to wrap for 3.5 hours. Mission accomplished. Stocking stuffers did however need somewhere to go. My daughter’s boyfriend didn’t have a stocking at our house last year. We don’t want him to feel left out. He’s been around for a couple years, so he’s become part of the family.
We don’t have a fireplace, so I put four nails in the hallway outside the kitchen. Yes, that is spackling hiding behind them. I’m getting ready to paint, don’t judge.
Why do people hang the stockings on the mantle anyway? Granted, Santa comes down the chimney so it’s convenient to have them right there, but if you light the fireplace, all the tasty chocolate inside would melt. I like my solution better.
I found something that finally made me smile about the entire holiday ordeal.
It’s a bit of childhood nostalgia, but the Abominable, “Bumble”, was always my favourite. I miss the days of settling on the couch with my mom to watch the old Christmas specials. The old stop animation with Burl Ives as snowman narrator. Maybe the holiday spirit can be found again on the island of misfit toys. We all want someone to love, and somewhere to belong.
There were two packages at the office when I got there today. My aunt had emailed that there were two on their way, with a reminder not to open them until Christmas. It was tempting, let me tell you. The one for my kids I wouldn’t dream of opening. I can’t wait for them to see they have mail from Germany for Christmas. Growing up that was the best part. Mail from grandparents, and aunts and uncles, that we knew would have chocolate of some sort in it. There’s something about the wrapping paper too. It’s thinner, and even feels different. Special. Doesn’t even matter what the package contains. It’s the fact that somewhere out there, someone thinks and cares about you.
Maybe I found my Christmas spirit after all. It was in a reminder of when I was little, and that it was always family that made the holidays special.
I’ll be with my kids, my daughter’s boyfriend, my brother and Dad on Christmas Eve. We have loved ones both near and far, and that’s what matters.