Fa-la-la-la-la, la la, la, what?You expect it this time of the year, right? The craziness, the non-stop you're behind before you start Hallmark moments. Losing your place, and forgetting what you're looking for while you're wandering around Bloomingdale's with a few hundred of your friends and neighbors.
There are Christmas carols on the radio before Thanksgiving now. Entire radio stations devoted to nothing but Rudolph ringing and sleighbells prancing...
Wait--I ring-ting-tingled the wrong thing...
Well, when you've been humming about Frosty since just after a steamy southern Halloween (we sweat in our costumes in Georgia), what do you expect? You're bound to mix up a beat of two come December.
I love Thanksgiving and Christmas. L-O-V-E them. But a little love can go a looooong way, if you know what I mean. I was sharing on my eHarlequin Superromance loop the other day that I've made a pact to produce a stress-free holiday for myself and my family--no matter how hard I have to work for it. (Come on, a girls got to dream!)
Fa-la-la-laing is hard work? You've got to be kidding, I found myself demanding several holiday seasons ago--once my son was old enough to have his own social agenda, the grandparents began making noise about wanting to "share" our joyous season now that said grandson was so much fun, and my husband and I were exhausted by Dec. 1st.
Where's the fun, I asked? Where's the magic? Where are my Rudolph reruns and a cup of hot chocolate by a cozy fire (at the time, we were stringing lights outside in the freezing cold, at the last possible minute before our holiday drop-in party was supposed to begin)? When had the holidays turned into an all-out sprint for the finish line?
As grown ups, we pay the piper for our Hallmark memoires. If we don't scrimp and save and put away a heafty downpayment (that is plan ahead, streamline the expectations, and get the work out of the way before the fun's supposed to begin) we're likely to lose our minds and be found wandering department stores aimlessly, whistling a warped Christmas carol that no one else seems to be hearing over the store speakers.
Or is that just my reaction to holiday overload and panic?
Hmmm... Maybe I should have asked how honest these blogs were supposed to be...
Anyhoodle... Such was the swirling chaos of my thoughts as I shoved aside half-wrapped gifts, manuscript revisions, and unaddressed invitations to this year's holiday party, so I had a few minutes to write this post. What should I chat about with the Posse? What's the best way to share the magic and beauty I believe thrives this time of year, but also manage not to come off sounding like a hokey gift card commercial?
Honesty seems the only thing I can pull off lately... And don't think I don't enjoy a juicy bit of rationalization as much as the next girl. But excuses just don't seem to work for me anymore...
So, honestly... I have been humming messed up jingles for days. And some days have felt less magical than others (when there were two Santas ringing Salvation Army bells outside the SAME STORE yesterday, for example, hum-bug actually crept into the holiday tune I swallowed mid-stanza). But I suppose that's the point of my meandering (for more pointless, Pollyanna musings, hop over to my website journal).
The holidays can be tough. Brutal even, if we find ourselves not in the mood, while others are all smiley and excited about their day. But magic still abounds, never fear. Never let yourself forget it.
The magic is that we care so much, believing in the peace and generosity of the season, no matter the aggravation (I did leave a donation with Santa #1, even though I scowled at the second guy). There's beauty in how we keep working so hard year after year, making holiday moments special for our kids, friends, and family (especially the grandparents, because, honestly, look how special they made things for us).
I'm planning the detials a little sooner this year, but I'll still space out from time to time, when the exhaustion creeps up on me. I share that, so you'll feel more affirmed when your Fa-la-la-la-la, la la, la, what? moment comes. Don't sweat it. Happens to all of us (some more than others, my husband assures me with a pat, as he leads me from Bloomindales). Shrug off the bumpy stuff, 'cause I'm here to tell you, it's all worth it.
I wouldn't trade my holiday mania (the memories I'll be looking back on years down the road), for anything--not even the good night's sleep I sometimes weep for. With magic like this, who needs rest?
I wonder if I should make an extra pie for the party... you can never have too many pies... And we should do more lights this year... Maybe invite the new family that moved in down the street to dinner...
Anyone else hear Alvin and The Chipmunks singing I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas, or is it just me???
Happy holidays, everyone!!!