This is the time of year when I always start to feel a little bit inadequate. While friends, family, neighbors, co-workers and just about every stranger on the planet are baking sugar cookies and hanging Christmas lights, I am doing... well, nothing.
Nothing specifically holiday related, at least. I had a conversation with my roommate today that went like this:
Me: So, we should probably hang up a few decorations or something, right?
Her: Yeah, the garage is full of them.
Me: But then we would have to take them all back down...
Her: And the kids are too little to notice anyway...
Me: Plus, we are going other places to celebrate...
Her: Too much work. I say we skip it.
Me: I was hoping you would say that.
And what's troubling is that I was actually relieved. One less thing to do, I thought... The Savior is coming to save the world from its sins, and I can't even hang a string of white lights.
Talking to Emilia's paternal grandmother (who will hence be called Denise, which is less robotic), I explained my lack of Grizwald enthusiasm, hoping for some reassurance.
Denise: (sigh) I used to feel the same way. You can probably get away with it this year, but get prepared to deck out a tree, buy every holiday magazine and hit Toys R Us on the day after Thanksgiving starting next year.
But I'm not a complete humbug...
I went to CVS.com, uploaded a picture and voila -- our Christmas card!
I made a special myspace Christmas playlist.
I own a red sweater. And Denise let me borrow a green one.
The revelation in all of this, of course, is that the true meaning of Christmas is something I keep with me all year long. I'm thankful everyday for my faith and say prayers the other eleven months.
Do I really need to hang a wreath on my door, and shape sugary dough into snowmen and Santas to prove this?
At this point, instead of tinseling a tree, I'd rather hold my daughter -- who will undoubtedly be running around, refusing to cuddle next year. And let's face it -- making my home look like a page out of Good Housekeeping has never been my style.
But starting next year, maybe Emilia and I can learn together.