Category: Christmas

Posted on in Christmas, family, life

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On Christmas Day 2023, I noticed people posting the pressing question of when to take their Christmas decor down. Call me crazy but I read these posts/questions before mid-morning perhaps minutes after presents were completely unwrapped around the world and Santa was finally drinking his first egg nog with Mrs. Clause. Seems odd. Have we lost enjoyment in our ever pressing social presence. I fear a few out there lived through Christmas via mental lists that ushered on the social media imposed schedule. Where’s the joy and the simple pleasures of watching your tree brown to a point lights cannot be turned on? We all learned great fire and cleaning skills from this season that can’t be learned without tree droppings. Where has simplicity and the utter delight from just “being” gone? Why the rush?

Is holiday running due to the excitement of resolutions that are never kept over NYE or the countless countdowns of years in review? Or are you skipping ahead to Valentines, St. Paddy’s. Easter or Mayday? Why are ornaments aleady boxed and wrapped? Now they are being relinquished to an attic only to come out for a quick show next year. Your Instagram moment awaits us all next year, with your matching 2024 Skims, carefully cropped and edited. As we are now a society who will only share a picture that is perfect with all the sparkle for the moment with hair, makeup and smiles in grand perfection and then quickly whisked to a quick dive back into hiding, so the next big moment can be captured without the clutter of Christmas. The social media slave continues only to be thinking about the next day, outfit, picture, food, cocktail or coffee to catch attention of scrollers in between their holiday heavens with drop dead decor and coordinating outfits. We once did matching sweaters for a family picture. It was hell. We were miserable but it looked perfect. It was a one and done moment in our lives, without joy and nothing but a great rush. Think about this on a daily or weekly basis for the average wannabe media maven, not those who make a real living in this crazy world. They have my odd respect and are probably creating content for weeks and months ahead so it rolls out with seamless scrolls. But this is their life and business and they are the few. The true rushers of time are just our old-fashioned “Keeping up with the Joneses” in picture form. Long ago, we just saw your new car properly or improperly parked for the best view. Now, we all see it. We have turned into a society of braggers. Don’t get me wrong I post. I have fun. I am old school insta. I enjoy the activity. I have corny comments and don’t think I am cool. It’s not a retail business or a push to keep up with others in their quest of looking perfect in my world. As us old school instas know, it’s all just a sham and perfection is never in the picture it is in the feeling. And today, I am watching my grandson sing the entire movie of Matilda. Complete with a dose of Excedrine. Because these are memories and this is perfection, so why rush?

Posted on in Christmas, family, granparent life, life

Fast Forward to Valentines…

I am on auto-pilot once Halloween hits the shelves. Perhaps, it is the teacher in me, to be prepared and organized. Or not. Probably, it is just the media hype and the retail store push turning us to Valentines day before the Christmas meal has been digested or the last political fight put to bed. Is New Years the new Thanksgiving, just a brief stopping point, before the next big show? Christmas, to me, is the big show for obvious reasons and yes, the presents that I have accumulated for months and my anticipation of my families delight. I do shopping like no other part teacher part trained personal shopper with former retail training. I am dangerous especially in handbags, they make me drool. Thank goodness I have boys. I would be broke.

We spent Christmas Eve delighting in little person toy delight and today recovering. As the dust settles, and the Valentine cards take their proper place on the shelves, my moment of true piece will be just a simple “I love you,” from both my boys before I took a well earned nap.

So with all my hustle and bustle (and I am not alone) it was three little words and our togetherness that made me feel at peace and get my engines revved up for the sales.

Posted on in Christmas, family, granparent life, grey hair

Elfing Ways

A long, long time ago there was a young mother (not so young) who wanted to bring Christmas cheer to her only son and husband. Money was a new found struggle, while the hubs had a growing business thus purchases were supposed to be limited. I found “The Elf” at a house party and it was the best $30.00 (I did not have) but spent in my life. Insert the hubs daily eyerolls and daily lectures that gifts of daily love and belief of this magic elf ( matchbox cars, cheerios, Pokémon cards etc.) were not needed. Of course, I knew that, but carried on. I am the picture of moderate (comparably) Christmas spending and usually with a bit of debt and a targeted pay off date. I am money smart, in my world, just no one else’s. But Christmas must go on…and frankly no one complains. Secretly, they love it. Especially, the elf.

But every penny of ornaments, decor, stocking stuffers, and presents including those requested from Santa and the needed clothes make my clan happy. As I am the only shopper for the family, and it is all for others, I see no harm. Try to debate happiness or put a price on happiness. You can’t. I won’t. Back to the elf. It always hung on the front door to make ease for delivery or at times a quick delivery before I dashed to work. The worst days were when the kid woke up early and the elf was forgetful the previous night. He would crawl into our bed and I would logically explain the elfin route, storms in the area, and prompt him to write the elf a note and have an “extra-good” day. Boom, two gifts the next day with his traditional “Thank you Elf, I love you!” My heart would explode. And special thanks to the ASU theater department. Stories come easy. Too easy.

This went on yearly, as far as I could stretch it. It made me happy because while the gifts were trinkets, they brought smiles, hugs, and the reaffirmation of my craziness would be given. My Heart ❤ was always full and my boys were happy. Occasionally, my husband would actually remind me to get the Elf gift ready. That was akin to winning him over! Once in awhile I even caught him smiling.

But this year caught me off guard. Insert the grandnugget. Last year it was just decor. This year it is HO HO and with it came the story. Which I extended further, and further with a trip to the north pole, an elf for his room and yes, the transfer of THE Elf to my sons home. I shudder. This was not my idea. It was the hubs. He sat me down and explained how it is time to pass on the fun. I cried. This passing of the torch is killing me, but it is has to happen this year. Twenty-seven years after I created this monstrosity of love, it must go on. It is my hope that my son passes on the tradition to his grandchildren.

The passing on of the Elf is hard. It is the last right of our child’s passage into adulting, along with art and report cards, that I still have and treasure. Still keeping these! But this is magic and in the passing I am hoping that the magic will continue for decades to come.