Ode to the Holidays

Now that the holiday season is over, it is time to reflect upon the joyful time we've just had and the warmth the good times have flooded through our lives (which we need considering it is about 2 degrees here today). 

The first thing anyone will tell you is you should not just appreciate what you got, but enjoy the entire process of celebration.  For us, that process includes our yearly journey to the attic to bring down about 200 pounds of stuff (we were not in the house for Christmas last year, and as happy as I am to be back, I'm pretty sure the attic stuff got busy and multiplied in our absence).  Now, by bring down, I mean we need to first get it from the attic to the second floor.  In order to avoid one or both of us breaking our neck on the pull down attic stairs, this usually involves my lowering each item (ranging from small boxes to large, incredibly heavy bags filled with who knows what) from the attic over the side of the stair opening to Big Guy.  I am a little person who is afraid of heights.  I do not care for this part of the process.   

Once it is complete, we now have to move everything downstairs.  This requires about 20 trips up and down the stairs and a few hours later our house looks like we just moved in and we are ready to start decorating (or take a nap).  The mini-mes, who have been talking endlessly about how much they want to decorate, are no longer remotely interested.  

I am not going to go into detail about the annoyances involved in stringing the lights on the tree, as that is a pretty played out story in everyone's house.  I will however point out how I get to do most of it since I am "better at it."  It's an amazing coincidence how I seem to excel at the crappiest jobs.  And, am I the only person who gets dizzy going around and around the damn tree?  The mini-mes do resume their enthusiasm when it comes time to put on the ornaments.  For about three ornaments each.  Then they are once again no longer remotely interested. They are clearly not enjoying the "process."

We then move onto the outside.  Every year we say that next year we will put up the outside lights earlier to avoid the serious cold; and every year we venture out in a deep freeze to accomplish this task that we both pretty much stink at (sorry Big Guy but it’s true). We try different lights just about every year; we’ve spent a small fortune on finding the “right” lights which basically means easy to put up yet look stunning (this type of light does not exist in the world).  We get special hooks, we space it as nicely as possible and securely attach it, and it looks nice- and come the first windy day, half the lights are hanging off the roof.  I am so close to hiring someone to do this for us (but then I hear my Father's voice in my head - “pay someone to put up Christmas lights!  For Christ’s sake!" - and realize I never will).  

At some point, we need to wrap the presents.  I am incredibly lucky in that Big Guy does a good amount of the shopping for the mini-me's, but it also means there are going to be surprise gifts that it is too late to do anything about (the Doggie Doo game?  really?).  Wrapping presents always takes a long time. Let me correct that.  Setting up to wrap presents, finding the tape and the scissors when you begin and about a hundred times during the wrapping process (along with a pen that actually writes on those dumb tags and then doesn't smear once it's on) and then cleaning up everything and putting it away so the kids don't see any of it takes a long time.  I'm pretty sure we are actively wrapping for about 20 minutes (15 for me and 5 for Big Guy who takes some union breaks).

And then it arrives.  The joyous day itself.  Christmas.   There really is nothing more delightful than watching the kids’ excitement upon seeing the pile of presents under the tree (and expanding about five feet beyond it because we really did buy too much as usual).  And the smiles on their faces as they rip open the wrapping paper to see what item (items – make that plural to the max) miraculously arrived off their list from Santa (you make sure you clearly say “I can’t believe Santa actually brought you that Doggie Doo game as you cast a nasty glance at Big Guy).  And the priceless vision of their grandmother (your Mother-in-Law who slept over the night before) hovering over them with a garbage bag so that she can grab each piece of wrapping paper before it even hits the floor because she cannot bear any type of mess no matter what or where it is.  Of course, your snarky self would have been perfectly okay to sit there with a cup of coffee, relaxing and enjoying the morning and willing to pick it all up later but now you have to get your ass off the couch and help (yes, I understand I didn’t *have to* but who among us can withstand the lure of the MIL doing something in your house that makes you look like a sloth?)

And then it is over.  The meal is eaten, the dishes are cleaned and the children are asleep.  About a month of preparations carried out and consumed in basically a 12 hour period. That seems about right.

And you have a week of restful vacation before you need to disassemble the tree (luckily you are “really good” at taking down and packing ornaments), carry 300 pounds of decorations (it multiplied again?) back up a flight of stairs and over the edge of a hole in the ceiling to the attic, and take down the outside lights on what will likely be the second coldest day of the year (second only to the day they went up).

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!