Could it be that My Heart is Two Sizes Too Small?

I have a confession to make. A confession so naughty that I am sure I will wake up to coal in my stocking on Christmas morning. Here it goes: I feel very indifferent toward the Holidays this year.

As I type this I can hear Buddy the Elf saying, “That’s shocking.” And really it is. I adore Christmas; usually by now I have most of my shopping done so as to avoid the rush (in my defense the kids’ presents are already stashed in the attic); in most years past I would be drooling over the thought of our family’s Thanksgiving feast. This year I’m having a terrible time finding where that anticipation has gone to.

For a while I thought my difficulty was stemming from the fact that I didn’t need to wear a winter coat until about one week ago: it is hard to feel Christmas-y in a t-shirt. And then I wondered if all the time and work that I was putting into my Etsy shop was sucking the Joy from my system. Too much housework, too many errands, not enough time for the kids.

I have been listening to Christmas music for a month now. It’s making me happy, but not making me feel like sitting down and actually writing out a gift list for anyone other than the kids, or picking a time to do our family photo. This year has been a tough one- likely the toughest of my young life- and I think I just might have misplaced my Christmas cheer somewhere along the way.

Or it could be that I’m just now finding my Christmas spirit after all of these years. Suddnely, I don’t care so much for gift giving or receiving: I just want to spend time with the people I love. I don’t want so much fuss and complication: I want to relax. Maybe when I wake up on Christmas morning I won’t find black coal after all, but a plethora of wonderful, relaxing warm and fuzzy memories just waiting to be made.

The Dawning of Autumn

Fall is here. The still air has that crisp snappiness to it that makes it feel blustery outside when not a blade of grass is stirring. Soon the sound of crunching leaves will articulate every footfall. Before long, the morning chill will necessitate that the oil furnace be cranked up and we will be able to feel our hard earned dollars escaping from the floor vents to wrap us in a thin layer of warmth.

Already I have had to resist the urge to listen to Christmas music. Mind you, I haven’t been able to resist it every time. There’s just something so comforting about listening to Bing and Dean croon. I can’t give in to regular listening for at least another month though. If I start listening to “Marshmallow World” and “Silent Night” now I’ll be sick to death of them by Christmas.

Not only that, but when I hear the strains of “Santa Baby” it makes me want to bake cookies. Lots of cookies. And then I forsake all other food groups and just eat cookies, and eat them and eat them. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around I won’t even be able to eat a roll. It’s a vicious cycle.

Christmas in July

Today is one of those summer days where a ruthless rain has cooled things down and left a dreary and calm sort of day in its wake. About this time of year I have a craving for Christmas music, and on a day like this a person simply cannot ignore the desire to hear the strains of “Jingle Bells” and “Silent Night”.

Sliding the CD into the player is simply the beginning of the cycle. For me the next step is cranking up the oven and turning out some delicious cookies. There is nothing that feels warm and fuzzier than to drop cookie dough onto the baking stone while the music of “Santa Baby” washes over. I suppose it could be the heat from the oven coupled with the fact that it still is summer time that causes me to feel oh-so-toasty-warm.

As long as the cloud-cover holds and the sun stays away the day will probably end with a nice comfort food style dinner of chili and rice. Nothing says, “Baby it’s Cold Outside” like a bowl of super-duper-special-yummy chili. And watching White Christmas; and eating cookies; and drinking coffee. I feel like I should have a present to open or something.