Christmas Part I

Guilt, guilt, guilt. That's what Christmas is all about if you're an adult, isn't it?
I really wanted this Christmas to be different. Special.
OK - I wanted it to be perfect. Is that too much to ask? I mean, it's like that in the movies, isn't it?
Every year, I try to capture that magic feeling that I had as a kid, and every year I just stress myself out.
This year was no exception. In fact, it was worse than ever. The children had a total of sixteen straight days at home, and George had twelve. I had such high hopes for the holiday.
The first difference was that we decided early on that we were not going to make the trip to PA to visit George's brother this year. We have gone every year for either Thanksgiving or Christmas holiday since I was pregnant with Bart. We even went when Drake was Lucy's age. He screamed most of the way. Instead of eight or nine hours, it took us nearly fourteen. It was hell. Which is why we decided not to travel with a newborn again this year.
So, we stayed at home. Our family has always had a hard time just staying home. We would much rather go out somewhere, to eat or shop or even just window shop. We don't necessarily have to be spending money to have fun. We just like to get out. I think it's something about George's and my emotional make-up. I know I sort of get depressed if I stay at home too much, and I think he gets that way, too. It might be that it stems from living in the boonies for pretty much my entire life. We didn't have cable or satellite or anything like that. We didn't even have a dryer or central heating and air until I was a teenager. Still...I remember getting dressed in front of our wood-burning stove on cold school mornings as a kid. Elsie and I would sometimes run out just after our bath to stand there and let the warmth radiate over our bare bottoms until it got too hot to stand. I remember the smell of orange peels drying in a tin pan on top of the stove, and falling asleep on the floor with my sister on our faux bear-skin rugs.
Those were the days when it was actually cold in the winter, even in North Carolina.
Did I mention that it was 74 degrees on Christmas Day this year?
I guess that's the other thing that made Christmas just weird. It's hard to feel all cozy and festive when you have the windows open, you're sweating buckets, and your kids are wearing shorts and flip flops.
I think the third major difference is that George and I were at each other's throats all holiday. I don't know why really. I guess we finally admitted that we were both being selfish for different reasons. I'm not even going to get into it, but it was miserable. I was actually glad to see the tail end of this Christmas. I haven't decided yet if we're even going to celebrate next year, it was so miserable.
It was like the Gift of the Magi gone horribly wrong.
I wanted to get George and Bart a Wii for Christmas. But George went and bought himself (oh, sorry, everyone) a Wii back before Halloween. So I was going to get him a really cool game for it, like Rock Band or Wii Fit. But then he went out and bought the Wii Fit and we had a big fight about it. So I finally told him he wasn't going to be getting anything from me for Christmas since he'd already bought everything for himself and spoiled it. So I didn't feel bad telling him exactly what I wanted - a pair of really nice boots - since it was pretty much the only thing I was asking for and I didn't feel that it was fair for me to just go out and spend $60 or $80 on myself because I wanted to. So I insisted that I wanted the boots for Christmas. And George told me I was being selfish. He said that he didn't care if he got any presents for Christmas or not (and thus, neither should I). And I told him of course he didn't mind not getting anything because he just went out and bought whatever it was he wanted when he wanted it, so he didn't have to wait for Christmas like I had to. I should mention that we were having pretty tight money issues. We even had the cable turned off right before Christmas. But still, he came up with the several hundred bucks to buy himself the video game equipment, right?
So...another dispute.
Then he laid on the guilt by saying he didn't want the Wii Fit any more, that it was just going to be a sore point between us, so he was going to sell it. Which made me mad, because I never really care if he wants to buy himself something nice from time to time. But I think it is completely unfair that when I want something for myself, I have to beg, plead, and defend my case to him. Ditto with stuff for the kids. And I'm not just talking luxuries, I'm talking about necessities, even. So to have him tell me that we couldn't necessarily afford much for Christmas for any of us...well, of course he doesn't mind - he just gave himself a nice Christmas before December even arrived!!
So the week before Christmas, I find out from Mindy that George is selling her the Wii Fit. Which made me feel even madder and guiltier. I really didn't want to spoil the game for him, but what am I supposed to do when I have him telling me we can't afford to buy gifts?
I spent all vacation baking gifts for people because we couldn't afford much else, and you know what? I don't really think I ended up saving any money. Plus, I was tired, cranky, and stressed out. Was it worth it? Not really. Sure I made some yummy stuff, and I love baking, but George complained that I never came to bed at a decent hour and I was snappy with him and the kids the next day.
I just wanted to do everything, go everywhere. And it didn't help that every activity or organization we were in, affiliated with, or standing within a hundred yards of demanded our presence at a holiday function. Or demanded the purchase of a gift. It was exhausting.
I know all this sounds petty and dumb, but that's the reason I don't even know if I want to get out the decorations next year. I'm almost thinking of saying no gifts for anyone except the kids, and that instead we will do something for charity or someone in need.
I did enjoy getting to go on Skylar and Bart's field trips. Skylar went to Tryon Palace on the 5th. Tom came to watch Drake while Lucy and I went along with her. It was pretty cold out, so cold in fact, that most of the children were unprepared. You never know how to dress around here. One day it's seasonably in the forties, the next day it might be in the seventies. Absolute truth. It's crazy. I can't even pack away summer clothes in the winter. Anyway, it was so chilly that the fourth grade teachers opted to cut the field trip short since the remainder of our tour was outside on the estate grounds. So Skylar, Lucy, and I went shopping in the gift shops. Drake was absolultely great for Tom while we were gone.
Bart's class and the other first grade classes went to see New Bern Ballet's production of the Nutcracker on the 15th. Mindy came to watch Drake and Lucy while I went with Bart. It was a short enough version that the children were able to sit mostly still throughout the show. I love the Nutcracker. Skylar and I miss our tradition of going to see the Carolina Ballet perform it at the BTI Center on Christmas Eve. We used to go with our best friends, the Claytons, whom we miss very much.
Thrown into the mix of things going on before Christmas was dance class, Girl Scout parties, school functions, church youth and Activity Day Girls stuff. Our family had rehearsals for a skit we were in for our church Christmas Party, and I had my wonderful dental work to enjoy.
It just didn't feel like Christmas.
Then, when I found out that George had sold the Wii Fit to his sister, I suddenly felt compelled to get him a gift. I had bought him 80's Trivial Pursuit on Black Friday, but I really didn't have anything else to give him. I bought him a used PSP game that I thought he might like, the first Star Wars Battlefront Game, but Bart had gone out with Renee and bought him the second Star Wars Battlefront game. Bart was so excited. He kept saying that Dad was going to love the game, that it was the best gift ever. I didn't want to rain on Bart's parade by giving George another Star Wars game, so I tried to return it to Game Stop. But it was past the seven day time limit, so I could not return it. I could, however, sell it to them as a used game and they would offer me $3 for it. $3? Ha! I'd paid $14 for it and never played it. No thanks, I'd just keep it and give it to him for his birthday or something. I know he said he didn't care if he got any gifts, but in woman-speak, that means "you'd better give me something or else you're sleeping outside for the next six months". And I would just feel so bad if he didn't have anything to open up Christmas morning. When the game thing fell through, I bought him a nice light sweater, but I ended up taking it back in order to get him something else, and well, let's just say that the funds never materialized. Due to a disputed charge I couldn't get them to take off, Bank of America ended up absorbing the refund from the sweater, sadly diminishing the cash I had left. Instead of the sweater, I ended up getting him the Rock Band Wii game (used) sans musical instruments because it had a great track. I thought George would really enjoy the songs. I made certain to ask the guy at the Game Stop if my husband could use it with his Guitar Hero guitar. Sure, he said.
Right. I should have known better.
So when George tried to play it on Christmas morning, we discovered it was not compatible with his Guitar Hero guitar, that we'd have to go out and buy a completely different guitar for it. So he decided to take it back. And the game Bart had gotten him, that Bart was so excited to give him, well, George already had it. So Bart was disappointed about that, and George didn't really get anything he could use. I ended up giving him the first Star Wars Battlefront game, after all, since nothing else was working out for.
I got my boots (big suprise), and I have worn them every day since Christmas. I even wore them on Christmas Day when it was sweltering. I picked them out with Skylar at the Jacksonville Mall and had the store hold them for George. I even gave him the store's business card so he could find it easier. They're black suede Timberlands with lining inside. They're waterproof and cozy and way cute. Too cozy and cute for NC. Lucky for me, the waterproofing is coming in handy, though. It rained far too much over the holiday. Other than the boots, Bart and George picked out a nice little table-top fountain for me. Skylar (with my unknowing help) tied a very warm NC State fleece blanket for George and me, and George gave me two things that I will not mention except to say that they were gifts more for him than for me - which ticked me off. I told him it would be like if I bought makeup or perfume for myself and wrapped it up for him.
The children got some really nice things for Christmas. It looked like so much under the tree, but I guess when you have four kids, it's going to look like a toy store no matter what!
For Bart, it was a very Star Wars Christmas. George and I looked everywhere for a Clone Troopers Voice-Changing helmet. We couldn't get our hands on one in New Bern, but we finally found one in Jacksonville at Toys R US. It was a big hit. Santa brought him a Tie Fighter ship. Skylar got a Soda Pop doll which turned out to have a stinky smell to it, a special charm bracelet I put together for her, and some good books. Drake got Dora the Explorer stuff and George made a train table for him. It turned out really nice, even though he didn't get it until the 30th. Lucy got mainly clothes, and a pink Disney Princess walker from Tom & Renee. They got other things, too, I just can't remember right now.
I was going to make us all new stockings this year, since Lucy didn't have one and mine and George's were picked up last-minute at the Dollar Tree two years ago and were coming apart. We went out and picked out some nice fleece and everything, but I just didn't have time to make them. So, as it was our first Christmas without Paco, Lucy had to use the dog stocking. It's light brown with dark brown spots. I was going to send it to George's Aunt Patty since Paco is living with her now, but I just didn't get around to that either. In this case, it worked out for our benefit.
So let's see...I made two batches of toffee this year, two batches (nine dozen) macaroons, vanilla and chocolate-dipped pretzels and peanut butter crackers, Pannettone, mini fruit cake loaves, Raspberry-lemon cornmeal loaves, truffles, and butter cookies. I am baked out.
Tomorrow, I'm making my Partridge bread, the kid's holiday favorite. And then I'm making figgy pudding for Twelfth Night.
George made homemade bagels with Skylar Thursday night and today he and the Big Two made homemade marshmallows.
Yep, I'm pretty sure we've all gained about ten pounds.
We gave baked goods out to teachers and instructors, friends and family, the ladies I Visit Teach at church, the young women at church, and our mail carrier.
So yes, it was a very stressful holiday season, but at least we ate well.
George and I always try to reinforce to the children and ourselves the true meaning of Christmas, and we usually do quite well. Probably our most spiritual Christmas (even with Bart's double-ear infection that made him run a fever and puke Christmas Eve and Christmas Day) was the last one we spent in Middlesex. We went out Christmas Eve for our annual light-watching trip. We also dropped off cookies at our bishop's house and some friends' homes. We left a large gift bag full of little toys and goodies at the home of a boy and girl to whom we had been giving a ride to church occasionally and who we suspected might not have a lot under the tree. On the way back home, we heard on the radio that Santa's sleigh had been spotted in the sky, so we HURRIED back so Sky and Bart could get in their PJ's.
The following Christmas was OK, but I felt guilty then for insisting we stay local on Christmas Eve (and try to recapture the prior Christmas Eve magic by delivering cookies to friends) instead of going over to Mindy's, which George wanted to do. I was just exhausted (Drake was only three months old) and I was feeling a little melancholy and wanted to be close to our new home.
Last year was pretty fun. We had our best friends the Nicolaysens and the Weekes over for Christmas Eve snacks and fun. We had a good time and Bart and his best friend/girlfriend Taylor spent the whole night glued to the computer to see where Santa's sleigh was headed next. Unfortunately, I was a pain in the rear on the way up to PA the day after Christmas. It was a really tense drive up, since it poured rain the whole way, and I was just feeling out of sorts. I felt pretty bad the whole stay, like I just could not get enough rest. We had a really good time with Alan and Mary Kay, but I just felt weird. We soon learned I had been in the early weeks of pregnancy, which would explain the moodiness and exhaustion.
Will I look back with fondness on this Christmas from the distance of a year or two? I don't know. Will the kids remember me and George fighting and sniping at one another? I hope not. Hopefully they'll just remember the stuff I remember from my own childhood Christmases: the tree crowded full of ornaments, the presents glimmering beneath the lights on Christmas morning, the smell of new plastic and Scotch tape. Cookies, milk, cold breath on the night air as we watch for a telltale red light in the sky, the thrill of mysteries and magic and old carols.
That's what I want them to remember. I guess that's what we need to focus on next year.
We got too caught up in the buy, buy, buying - even on our limited means. Just because we don't have a lot to spend on Christmas presents doesn't mean we can't be just as materialistic as those who spend thousands of dollars. Sure I love my boots and I've used them a ton. But in the grand scheme of things, do they really matter?
No, they don't.
Time and again, we are reminded that the only thing that really matters at Christmas is the baby in the manger. The story echoes down the millennia. It never goes away or loses its power, it stays with us because it is the reason we're here. It's the reminder that the only thing that endures from this life is family and the worth of one's soul.
I am not pleased with the worth of mine right now. Some people might say that I'm a pretty good person, and that may even be true to a large extent. I only know that the more your eyes are opened, the more you feel responsible to be a better person.
I don't want to get caught up in the Christmas frenzy next year. I guess like a lot of other people, I'm just looking for a way to balance the spiritual with the material. I'm not really sure how to do that. I still want my kids to have that look of awe in their eyes when they come downstairs Christmas morning, but I don't want to feel empty and sad when the gifts are all opened and the paper crumpled up on the floor. I don't want to forget about the baby in the manger.
I read something in a little booklet I received at church a few years ago, and I will have to try to paraphrase it. But basically, it's that the feeling we get at Christmas is a reminder, a brief tantalizing snippet, of what doesn't have to be just once a year, but of something that can be eternal. To have that Christmas feeling we had as a child, the one that we try in vain as adults to capture and keep, but that constantly slips just out of reach - to really have it, and to have it forever - would probably be my idea of heaven. That beats out Wiis and Star Wars - and yes, even shoes - any day.