December 7, 2007

the Spectacular

Well I'm all full of wrath. Well, not wrath, per say, but just, I don't know. Maybe it's more related to disbelief or maybe concern or maybe it's just that I don't get it. I don't get the big Christmas spectacular. I don't.


And it drives me bonkers to think that people are spazzing about what people to give gifts to and what type of gift it should be and ALL THAT NONSENSE.
The thing is, I absolutely Christmas. I love it in the sense of tradition, and remembrance. I love to spend time with family, and hear the same old stories, but hear everyone's "side". I love to roast marshmallows, and drink cocoa and cider. I love to read the Christmas story... The real one, from the bible.

I love to make a hot pot of soup for dinner, followed by hot baths and jammies, and snuggle down into a nest, built with love by my babies, and fall asleep watching Frosty the Snowman.




I just think that we have such a problem in America. We have so much Stuff that we forget about the important things. Christmas is about joy and love and laughter. It's about family and friends and gladness. It is not about Ipods, and video games, and toys, and gifts. The bigger the gift does NOT equal the bigger the love. It just doesn't.

I realize that I may be perceived as a Scrooge. As a humbug. And guess what? I don't care. Know why? Because while you may say that I'm just being bitter, or maybe that I have a bad attitude, or however you're choosing to label me, I know you're wrong.

I know that I'm taking my kids to the snow this week. I know that they are going to build snowmen, and freeze their buns off, and lose their mittens. I also know that they'll be talking about it for months to come.

I know that I'm going to make treats for our neighbors. And I know that we're going to bundle up, and trot up and down the street ringing doorbells and shouting "Merry Christmas!" We're going to remember leaving out treats and a bowl of water for the reindeer, we're going to remember writing notes to Santa Claus and his elves.

I know that we're going to absolutely love and adore the very few gifts that I did purchase. And I mean, a very few.



Because I also know that in 20 years when my children look back, they're not going to remember that I bought them a transformer...

They will remember gathering round the piano and singing Christmas carols. They will remember that this is the season for giving and loving. They'll remember driving through the neighborhoods, looking at all the Christmas lights. They'll remember making treats for Santa and his reindeer. They will remember that this is the night Christ was born, and that we are honoring him, and that we give gifts in remembrance of Him. They will remember the way they felt and the traditions that we've instilled in them.


I have a hard time at Christmas because I feel like the true nature of the holiday is lost in all the commercialism. I don't like to feel pressured from anyone. And I don't like, that because I choose to have a small Christmas, that others feel the need to judge me, and call me a Scrooge. It's not fair. I have a hard time discussing Christmas because it's always about "What did you get?" and not "What did you give?"


I know I'm ranting and raving and carrying on... I'm just asking you to stop. Breathe. Focus. Try not to lose sight of what is really important. Try to remember who this is about. Your kids aren't going to love you more or less because you didn't get everything on their lists. I know it's hard for some of you because of family traditions, and whatnot. I say, let them be mad. Yes, really. I know that we've disappointed family in the past because of our refusal to participate in gift exchanges. Oh well. I can't afford to get all of you a gift, and still provide my children with Christmas. Besides, I'm a pretty generous person. If I see something that I just KNOW you should have, I'll get it. Christmastime or not.

What it all boils down to is, "to each their own" I may not agree with how you do Christmas, and you may not agree with how I do mine, but guess what? It doesn't even matter.

That's all. The end.