NOT a Christmas Fan
I kinda, sorta, maybe hate Christmas. Now, before you burn a Santa in my front yard or hog tie me with garland, let me explain. When I was younger, Christmas was everything to me, like most children. I’d be good all year - good grades, no calls from my teachers, clean room, dishes happily washed. No task was too big or small, because neither would my Christmas list be. I’d ask for clothes, dolls, the latest shoes, toys and for the most part, I got what I asked for. Christmas was fun and exciting. I remember my mother would rush my sister and I off to bed because Santa wouldn’t come by the house if we were awake. And we would oblige, squeezing our shut, even as I hearts beat with anticipation of what the morning would be. We would wake around 7 in the morning and force our parents out of bed so we could open our gifts, while listening to Christmas music playing on the local radio station. Those memories were amazing!
Sadly, the ruse was up when I was around eight years-old. I woke up to use the bathroom and found my parents laying out all of my toys and clothes. It’s funny, I don’t remember being overly disappointed to learn that Santa wasn’t real. But, my mother and I have a good laugh about her not wanting to wrap the gifts and deciding it was better to just lay the stuff out on the couch. *sigh*
Fast forward a few years and my sister, who is eight years older than me, moved out of state. I was devastated and had my first experience with obssessive compulsive disorder. I couldn’t control her leaving, but I could control everything around me, and EVERYTHING had to be just so for me to feel comfortable. Although she would come home on Christmas Day, Christmas took a turn for me at that point. I no longer had her there to share the excitement with, to compete over who got the most gifts or guess what box contained what item from our list. And pretty much, from this point, my love of Christmas continued to take hits.
As I got older, my mother, who was the primary shopper in our family, lost her zeal for buying gifts that my sister and I didn’t like. How often did she try to get an outfit and it was the wrong size or just the wrong style? So, she began to have us order our own gifts and when they arrived, she wrapped them up. We were tasked with pretending surprise when we took what we’d ordered out of the prettily wrapped box. When I got my license, my mother would hand me her checkbook and have me go purchase gifts for all my aunts and cousins. I’d be gone for hours each day up until Christmas trying to track down the items she wanted. Pretty soon, Christmas just became an unpaid job.
Then, I went through a stage in my twenties where Christmas just reminded me how lonely I was. I wasn't attached, with no prospects and I completely forgot how to enjoy my family and be okay with being single. Those years were some of the worse Christmases I can recall. I hated all these Lifetime, and happy couples wearing matching pajamas in their Christmas photos. It all reminded me that I wasn't with anyone for Christmas. Those days have long since passed. Now, I’m married with children, a 3-year old and an 11- year old. But I find my luster still pretty dim when it comes to Christmas. I’ve lost family members, my father isn’t in great health, and a pandemic is stopping us from getting together like we normally would. This season is a painful reminder of all the changes, good and bad, that’s happened over the years. Yet, I smile and shop with the best of them to put the smile I used to have during this time of year on my children’s faces. Spending all that time shopping for my mother has definitely taught me a few tricks like: Amazon is your friend. Never shop the week of Christmas. You won't find anything that you want and you'll have to fight through droves of people to figure that out. You can't buy gifts for everyone, and you have to be okay with that. Besides, they weren't expecting anything, anyway.
So, I’ve got my reasons as to why I don’t have my tree up before Thanksgiving and why I’m annoyed at the people who do (my sister included). Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I press through this “joyous” time of year. Newsflash: it ain't joyous for everyone.
Sadly, the ruse was up when I was around eight years-old. I woke up to use the bathroom and found my parents laying out all of my toys and clothes. It’s funny, I don’t remember being overly disappointed to learn that Santa wasn’t real. But, my mother and I have a good laugh about her not wanting to wrap the gifts and deciding it was better to just lay the stuff out on the couch. *sigh*
Fast forward a few years and my sister, who is eight years older than me, moved out of state. I was devastated and had my first experience with obssessive compulsive disorder. I couldn’t control her leaving, but I could control everything around me, and EVERYTHING had to be just so for me to feel comfortable. Although she would come home on Christmas Day, Christmas took a turn for me at that point. I no longer had her there to share the excitement with, to compete over who got the most gifts or guess what box contained what item from our list. And pretty much, from this point, my love of Christmas continued to take hits.
As I got older, my mother, who was the primary shopper in our family, lost her zeal for buying gifts that my sister and I didn’t like. How often did she try to get an outfit and it was the wrong size or just the wrong style? So, she began to have us order our own gifts and when they arrived, she wrapped them up. We were tasked with pretending surprise when we took what we’d ordered out of the prettily wrapped box. When I got my license, my mother would hand me her checkbook and have me go purchase gifts for all my aunts and cousins. I’d be gone for hours each day up until Christmas trying to track down the items she wanted. Pretty soon, Christmas just became an unpaid job.
Then, I went through a stage in my twenties where Christmas just reminded me how lonely I was. I wasn't attached, with no prospects and I completely forgot how to enjoy my family and be okay with being single. Those years were some of the worse Christmases I can recall. I hated all these Lifetime, and happy couples wearing matching pajamas in their Christmas photos. It all reminded me that I wasn't with anyone for Christmas. Those days have long since passed. Now, I’m married with children, a 3-year old and an 11- year old. But I find my luster still pretty dim when it comes to Christmas. I’ve lost family members, my father isn’t in great health, and a pandemic is stopping us from getting together like we normally would. This season is a painful reminder of all the changes, good and bad, that’s happened over the years. Yet, I smile and shop with the best of them to put the smile I used to have during this time of year on my children’s faces. Spending all that time shopping for my mother has definitely taught me a few tricks like: Amazon is your friend. Never shop the week of Christmas. You won't find anything that you want and you'll have to fight through droves of people to figure that out. You can't buy gifts for everyone, and you have to be okay with that. Besides, they weren't expecting anything, anyway.
So, I’ve got my reasons as to why I don’t have my tree up before Thanksgiving and why I’m annoyed at the people who do (my sister included). Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I press through this “joyous” time of year. Newsflash: it ain't joyous for everyone.
No comments have been added yet.
