It's a Very Meh Christmas

The holiday hoopla is in full swing. Glittery junk all over the stores, holiday books prominently displayed at the library, people talking endlessly about gifts and decorating and baking and whatever else it is that makes them get all frazzled but determined to paste a merry smile on their faces FOR THE CHILDREN.

Not into it.

This year particularly I'm not into it because we're leaving Christmas Day for Arizona. I'm very excited to spend part of the holiday season with my family there, which has not happened since I moved from Arizona eleven years ago. It is making it kind of hard to get into it here, though.

In a normal year, this would be the weekend we would head to the woodchuck Christmas tree back forty to get our tree. I'm not too gung ho about doing it this year, however, since I won't be here to take it down until well after New Year's, so there's no point in getting it early only to have it dry out and die before I can take it down.

Plus, I have no doubt whatsoever that Charlie is going to rip off any ornament he can reach (and that boy has Go-Go Gadget Arms if he sees something he wants) and throw them. He's in a throwing phase. This does not mesh with Christmas trees. So I'm in no hurry to have that particular temptation set up.

Ditto on a lot of the decorating. It has to be high enough that he can't reach it. And anything HE can't reach, Cubby will find a way to reach, and anything Cubby sees that is new and shiny must immediately become his. He's like Gollum with his precious. Not looking forward to confiscating ceramic trees and candleholders from him and dealing with the ensuing shrieks of, "But I'll be CAREFUL!"

There was also the conversation I had the other day with Cubby in which he asked me over and over if Santa is real, and like an annoying, cynical parent I kept coming back with, "What do YOU think?" He said no.

We seem to have a conspicuous lack of Christmas magic around here.

Not to worry, though! Next weekend we'll make a pilgrimage with our hacksaw to get a tree, throw some unbreakable cheap ornaments on there, hand out the (real) ancient horse sleigh bells that are sitting on the mantle, and sing "Jingle Bells" on endless rotation.

Because who wants to be the Christmas killjoy for two small children? Not me. Well, not much, anyway.