Thanksgiving was, like, 4 days ago. FOUR DAYS. And I’m already having the first (of many, I’m sure) holiday freak out. Christmas is here, apparently. Even though it’s not even December. Which no longer matter, it seems.
Last year was technically Dylan’s first Christmas, but we don’t really count it, because she was only 4 1/2 months old, so she had literally ZERO clue about the holiday happenings. Decorations? Meh, not a big deal when you can barely focus your eyes. Christmas music? Sounds virtually no different than the ABC song to infant ears. Presents? Unfortunately for babies, you need a modicum of coordination to maniacally rip off wrapping paper, so I had more fun with that than Dylan last year. (Incidentally, I will really miss opening her presents this year, as I thoroughly enjoy it and don’t get to do it nearly enough) Christmas was only slightly different than any other day, in that I gave her the boob in a different house. So there was no pressure last year, no need to impress the kid.
But this year. Well, this year, she’s a player in this game. A small, easily distracted player, but a loud, shriek-y, excitable one at that.
So, here we are, still an entire month before the big day, and I already feel like I’m behind. Way, way behind. We’ve gotten no shopping done (although we know exactly what we’re getting everyone, we just need to actually get it), we have no decorations up, I’ve got zero fun, Christmas-y activities planned (again, I know what I want to do, like Candy Cane Lane, Santa pictures, etc., but I have yet to figure out when this will all commence). A full month to go, and I already feel like a Yuletide failure. Please tell me I’m not alone here? Tell me you’re still trying to get past Thanksgiving too. Please. Just say it to make me feel better, I’m begging you.
On the subject of decorations, I think we’ve come to a rather shocking decision this year. I think (drumroll…) we’ll be joining the masses and buying a fake ::hork:: tree. Now, I hate fake trees. Despise them, in fact. We alwaysalwaysalways had live trees growing up, and nothing can replace the smell, the feel, of a real pine tree in your living room. My grandma used to have this tiny stupid plastic thing she called a tree, and it still makes me angry, just picturing it. BUT. Having a big, heavy tree that drops a thousand fucking needles an hour all over your house, plus oozes sap from a seemingly bottomless source, does not seem like the best idea when you’ve got a very curious, very grabby toddler hurdling around the room full steam all the goddamn time. Add to that a kitten that is *probably* Satan reincarnated, and the fact that I am chomping at the bit to put up a tree but know that it will be dead and dry and a dangerous fire hazard in 2 weeks, we’re thinking plastic may be the way to go. It hurts my soul to do it, but alas, it’s the best decision. Add this to the ever-growing list of shit that kids ruin (I kid, I kid. Kind of.). Hoping to have our senior citizen tree up this weekend. I’m just gonna have to drown it in ornaments and invest in some pine scented candles to cope with the loss.
(On a completely mind-blowing side note, while at a Christmas tree farm this past weekend, husband and I saw trees that were priced in the $500-$700 range. AMERICAN DOLLARS. I almost peed my pants. Please, if you’ve ever spent that much money on a Christmas tree, never, EVER tell me about it. Because I will probably punch you, and then mock you incessantly for the rest of your time on Earth. Which probably won’t be long, as anyone who spends that kind of money on a dead tree that you will have for a month and then THROW AWAY is quite possibly too stupid to live.)