Too Old for Christmas?

It’s over and I’m glad. I am not typically a bah humbug kinda girl, but let’s face it, this year sucked and the holidays are simply a culmination of the crap. I now need to survive New Year’s Eve and then I can be done with it. Of course NYE is a bit easier to handle because overindulgence in alcohol is expected, not just tolerated. Out with the old and in with the new – yes, baby, I am ready for that.

I wonder if I am just getting too old for Christmas.  There were some definite signs that the holiday simply doesn’t pack the punch it used to for me. For example:

I didn’t get kissed underneath the mistletoe.

Jack Frost tried to nip at my nose so I tasered him.

Good golly Miss Molly, there wasn’t a damn thing that was holly or jolly.

There were no chestnuts – roasted or otherwise.

I never heard what she heard or saw what he saw. Who are those people anyway?

I didn’t rock around the Christmas tree, deck the halls or don any gay apparel.

I did, however, have a blue, blue Christmas…the result of a little too much ho, ho, ho.

But lest I sound too dramatic, the holiday wasn’t a total loss. In fact, when properly reprioritized the special moments rise to the top. My daughters, who have been my angels this past year, gave me the best presents ever. It was amazing how it all went down. They asked me what I wanted, I told them and that’s what they got me. What a great concept.

A week before Christmas, we did a mother/daughter/grandson day complete with lunch, shopping and sibling bickering. While strolling through the mall, the girls decided it made more sense for them to get me my iPhone that day since we were right in front of the Verizon store. I panicked! I am not good at making major changes and I wasn’t “prepared”. They dragged me inside and instructed the salesperson to “just do it.” It was like ripping off the Band-Aid. I left there shaking, holding a new phone I didn’t know how to work and lamenting the loss of my saved texts, voice mails, ringtones and ringbacks. I was in shock, but the girls insisted I would get through it. I did hang up on a few friends, had no way of knowing who was calling by the ring and I sent a few texts to the wrong people…oops, that could be trouble. I think I may need a 12-step program.

My other gifts included a gift certificate for a mani/pedi, a new wallet just like my daughter’s and a certificate to Chief’s Wings and Firewater that will be redeemed during Clemson’s 2012 football season.  

Of course all the bahs and blahs went by the wayside on Christmas morning.  At 8am, I started the coffee, set out the cranberry muffins and fried two pounds of bacon – one pork and one turkey for all the health-conscious relatives. Nobody ate the turkey bacon, exclaiming it was Christmas and they were treating themselves to the good stuff.

And then the true purpose of the holiday sprang to life as my little guy woke up, rubbed his sleepy eyes, walked into the living room and spied what was under the tree. I’m not sure how Santa got all those items down the chimney – a Sit ‘n Spin, books and puzzles galore, building blocks, stuffed animals, DVDs and a big, old fire truck. Then there were the gifts from grandma, nana and poppa, and mimi and grandpa. Wyatt oohed and ahhed as he pulled tissue paper out of bags and stuck his head in to see what he could find. He was like Little Jack Horner sticking in his thumb and pulling out a plum. His smiles made all the bad stuff disappear in an instant.

So now it is onward and upward to face the new year. Mark my words, there’s gonna be some changes in these here parts. By next Christmas I plan to rock, roast, nip, hear, see, deck and don. And I am definitely getting kissed under the mistletoe. Now who knows the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne?