I've been on a bit of a hiatus. Sorry if you (Lindsey) missed me. Today is Christmas Eve and I am sitting at work. Bah-Humbug! I am a nice boss and will be letting my peeps head home early so they can enjoy some eggnog and dream of sugar plums as they wait to see which of Santa’s list they fell on this year. I’m sure it’s a toss-up for me at this point (hence letting the peeps go home early!)
Christmas is a double-edged sword for many of us. Memories of the holiday when we were children and all the magic it entailed; the time we spent with siblings and cousins in the freezing snow making forts and snowmen and drinking hot cocoa flood our minds. I really have no memory of when that magic transitioned into a frenzy of gift buying, budgeting, debt-inducing, free-for-all with family feuds and a general unpleasantness. I do, however, remember writing a column at the newspaper in college titled “Merry Frickin’ Christmas”. But really, the magic was still there for me – that was just an observation (maybe my first) of the commercial madness that ensued each year during the holiday. Maybe not being able to pinpoint that moment of transition is a good thing – maybe it means some of the magic is still there! Or maybe, my moment was little less traumatic than the rest.
I work in retail, so Christmas is the time of year when days-off are few and eight hour days are simply unheard of. I leave for work when it is dark and leave for home at the end of the day when it is once again dark. If it weren’t for the few smoke breaks in between, I would go several months without seeing daylight. I am lucky to have a great team that works hard to make the impossible possible in our business, so the hours are worth it - professionally. I’m unlucky that by the time I get home, I am so exhausted it is a true effort to get a decent dinner on the table and read a bed-time story to A-Cat (good thing she is now a fluent reader and very self-sufficient). The complete frenzy of my professional life during this time of year is difficult to balance with my desire to be Super-Mom and Uber-Wife (my super hero capes are currently collecting dust in the closet…sad, I know.) Not a gift was wrapped until late last night. The tree has only been up for a week. Work is my magic killer.
Trying to revive the magic is a difficult feat, but it’s time to dust off my capes and make it happen. This year it is just may be easier than I think…thanks to one small, but might red-head. In the past I have cursed television commercial filled with whorish dolls and ridiculous toys that are nothing but crap that plead to my young daughter’s natural sense of desire. Last year, the big toy was Buttercup the horse. Have you seen this thing? It is a giant stuffed animal that moves and neighs. And it can be under your tree for a few hundred dollars! Oh how A-Cat wanted it; she dreamed of it. Then one day, in my not-so-subtle approach, I told her those parents who buy Buttercup just don’t love their kids as much I love her. I love her so much that I don’t need to spend a bunch of money to prove it to her – she gets small meaningful gifts that are tokens of my love and it is the hugs and time together that prove my love. (Sorry if you bought this horse for your kids and are now offended that I somehow think you don’t love your kids…get over it, it was an explanation to a five year old.) She was satisfied with that answer and was pleased as punch to see that Santa delivered an art desk that year (Hey Santa – next time, please deliver only assembled items tonight. I don’t have it in me to assemble 4000 small plastic pieces 10 screws and holes that don’t line up tonight. There’s an extra cookie in for you!)
This year A-Cat came and asked, “Mommy, do you know what I want for Christmas this year?” “Hmmm…what god-awful toy was just advertised on TV,” I thought with annoyance. “I want my family to have the best Christmas ever,” she said in a small whisper. My heart melted. Here I saw a little kid who dreams of getting stuff, stuff, stuff, and more stuff. When really, all she wanted was the magic, and not for herself, but for her whole family. Here a six year old gets it – she really gets it. Now don’t be fooled, she also wants the occasional toy she sees, but the requests are few and quite.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
They are biting for toys, throwing fits in the store and manipulating those they love just to come out ahead (oh and these are the adults). Me, me, me – ‘tis the theme of the season. Frankly, I’m tired of it. I have one message for those of you that just won’t have a Merry Christmas if you don’t get your Coach bag or your 42 inch flat screen television or the big diamond you’ve been waiting for: Christmas isn’t about you. Christmas is about family and friends and good food and stories and togetherness. It isn’t about the gifts you receive, or even the gifts you give. Christmas isn't about what ends up in your stocking (my husband grew up getting fruit in his – no wonder he hates Christmas!) Christmas is the time for us grown-ups to create the magic for the children and maybe, just maybe believe in it again ourselves.
So, in joining the magical spirit of my A-Cat, my Christmas wish is that all of us and our families have the best Christmas ever! Merry Christmas!
Christmas is a double-edged sword for many of us. Memories of the holiday when we were children and all the magic it entailed; the time we spent with siblings and cousins in the freezing snow making forts and snowmen and drinking hot cocoa flood our minds. I really have no memory of when that magic transitioned into a frenzy of gift buying, budgeting, debt-inducing, free-for-all with family feuds and a general unpleasantness. I do, however, remember writing a column at the newspaper in college titled “Merry Frickin’ Christmas”. But really, the magic was still there for me – that was just an observation (maybe my first) of the commercial madness that ensued each year during the holiday. Maybe not being able to pinpoint that moment of transition is a good thing – maybe it means some of the magic is still there! Or maybe, my moment was little less traumatic than the rest.
I work in retail, so Christmas is the time of year when days-off are few and eight hour days are simply unheard of. I leave for work when it is dark and leave for home at the end of the day when it is once again dark. If it weren’t for the few smoke breaks in between, I would go several months without seeing daylight. I am lucky to have a great team that works hard to make the impossible possible in our business, so the hours are worth it - professionally. I’m unlucky that by the time I get home, I am so exhausted it is a true effort to get a decent dinner on the table and read a bed-time story to A-Cat (good thing she is now a fluent reader and very self-sufficient). The complete frenzy of my professional life during this time of year is difficult to balance with my desire to be Super-Mom and Uber-Wife (my super hero capes are currently collecting dust in the closet…sad, I know.) Not a gift was wrapped until late last night. The tree has only been up for a week. Work is my magic killer.
Trying to revive the magic is a difficult feat, but it’s time to dust off my capes and make it happen. This year it is just may be easier than I think…thanks to one small, but might red-head. In the past I have cursed television commercial filled with whorish dolls and ridiculous toys that are nothing but crap that plead to my young daughter’s natural sense of desire. Last year, the big toy was Buttercup the horse. Have you seen this thing? It is a giant stuffed animal that moves and neighs. And it can be under your tree for a few hundred dollars! Oh how A-Cat wanted it; she dreamed of it. Then one day, in my not-so-subtle approach, I told her those parents who buy Buttercup just don’t love their kids as much I love her. I love her so much that I don’t need to spend a bunch of money to prove it to her – she gets small meaningful gifts that are tokens of my love and it is the hugs and time together that prove my love. (Sorry if you bought this horse for your kids and are now offended that I somehow think you don’t love your kids…get over it, it was an explanation to a five year old.) She was satisfied with that answer and was pleased as punch to see that Santa delivered an art desk that year (Hey Santa – next time, please deliver only assembled items tonight. I don’t have it in me to assemble 4000 small plastic pieces 10 screws and holes that don’t line up tonight. There’s an extra cookie in for you!)
This year A-Cat came and asked, “Mommy, do you know what I want for Christmas this year?” “Hmmm…what god-awful toy was just advertised on TV,” I thought with annoyance. “I want my family to have the best Christmas ever,” she said in a small whisper. My heart melted. Here I saw a little kid who dreams of getting stuff, stuff, stuff, and more stuff. When really, all she wanted was the magic, and not for herself, but for her whole family. Here a six year old gets it – she really gets it. Now don’t be fooled, she also wants the occasional toy she sees, but the requests are few and quite.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
They are biting for toys, throwing fits in the store and manipulating those they love just to come out ahead (oh and these are the adults). Me, me, me – ‘tis the theme of the season. Frankly, I’m tired of it. I have one message for those of you that just won’t have a Merry Christmas if you don’t get your Coach bag or your 42 inch flat screen television or the big diamond you’ve been waiting for: Christmas isn’t about you. Christmas is about family and friends and good food and stories and togetherness. It isn’t about the gifts you receive, or even the gifts you give. Christmas isn't about what ends up in your stocking (my husband grew up getting fruit in his – no wonder he hates Christmas!) Christmas is the time for us grown-ups to create the magic for the children and maybe, just maybe believe in it again ourselves.
So, in joining the magical spirit of my A-Cat, my Christmas wish is that all of us and our families have the best Christmas ever! Merry Christmas!
A-Cat telling Santa her Christmas wish
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