Christmas creep

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The Saddest Day of the Year

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I love Christmas. I love it without shame. I love the music, the movies, the decorations, the cookies. 

I put up my Christmas tree on November 1 every year. Why? 

  1. I'm an adult and I can do what I want.
  2. I want to enjoy every possible moment of Christmas joy. 
  3. If I wait longer than that, it feels like a waste. 

And every year, the inevitable rolls around: I have to take all the decorations down. The pretty vase of Christmas ornaments in my window, the sparkly bucket of candy canes, the carefully arranged ornaments. 

The saddest day of the year is always the Sunday after New Years. That's my designated "take it down" day. I undo all my hard work from November and shove it all in a box. I then lug everything upstairs and close it into a room for another 10 months.

There is a part of me that always thinks, "why not just leave it up if you like it so much?" I mean, really, if I'm an adult and I can do what I want, I can just leave my Christmas tree up all year. Right? 

Wrong!

As much as I love Christmas, I fully recognize that there are months where the presence of a Christmas tree would be too much. Overkill. Plus, year-round Christmas dilutes the spirit of November and December. It wouldn't be special if I had a tree all year.

So, for now, my fair isle tree skirt and candy canes are safely packed away, waiting for another November to roll around. I'll be ready.

There Something About the Lights in December

I'm a lover of early Christmas decorations. 

I know, I know. I'm one of those people. 

Whenever people talk about the Christmas Creep (that delightful moment when Halloween ends and suddenly, everything in stores is replaced with Christmas stuff and it's happening earlier and earlier and faster and faster every year, hence, "the Creep"), they look to me with an expectation of solidarity. "I hate how once Halloween is over, bam! It's Christmas!" Then the piercing look. I gulp. 

"I actually love early Christmas. The longer it lasts, the better," I reply, making a mental note to not invite them to my house until after Thanksgiving. 

Why, you ask? 

I already have my Christmas tree up. In fact, I've had it up since the day after Halloween. 

What can I say? I just get so excited. I just want everything to be peppermint, to be red-and-white striped. I want to wear fair isle sweaters and beanies and snow boots. I want red cups at Starbucks and Christmas music on the radio. I love it. I always have. 

Thursday night, I left work to meet my sister-in-law, Amy. We walked and talked and ate frozen yogurt. After I drove her home, it was starting to get dark (5pm, still early) and I realized that I love that feeling. Those first nights of early evening, when the world seems to turn the lights out at exactly 5:30. The headlights and the neon signs of shopping centers and the stars shining like Christmas lights. I love those early days: it feels magical and crisp and happy. I remember driving home from school or events with my mom, sitting in the front seat and watching the lights shine past me. It reminds me of a lot of things, but mostly, it reminds me of my family and home and being blissfully happy. 

So when it comes to hate towards the Christmas Creep, I have to be perfectly honest: you won't find kinship with me.