My kids go back to school this week. Most parents rejoice at this kind of event and I’m one of them.
The lone exceptions amongst parents are those who send their kids away to school for the first time. Being a teacher’s aide I see it happen every year. A brave kid, fighting back tears maybe and wide-eyed with anticipation heads into a classroom for the first time while a worried mama gives him a tender hug – like he’s going off to war. It’s a Kodak moment, for sure.
Not me. I practically boot my kids out of the car these days. If there are tears shed by me they are tears of sheer delirium.
To me there is no bigger Christmas moment than when the kids are out of my hair, the husband is at work, the plan for dinner is cereal or do-it-yourself sandwiches, and I’ve got nothing but an upfront parking space to look for at the Hobby Lobby.
Yes, I’m a Christmas creeper.
I am one of those who actually looks at all the Christmas stuff at Costco in the dead heat of August. When Michael’s sets up their aisles of holiday fluff I’m there. If McDonald’s had the eggnog shake right now, I’d buy it.
The media is going to complain about it. But I’m all for drippy Christmas movies on Hallmark, blaring the Christmas shows on QVC, and even blasting Perry Como in the car.
The more it annoys other people the more I delight in it.
What the complainers about Christmas do not understand is that for some of us Christmas isn’t about Christmas Day. Or even Christmas Eve. Or even December.
It is about anticipation.
We relish it. We delight in it. The wait and the building and the anticipation of Christmas is Christmas.
The fun of Christmas comes just as much from creating it, building it and planning for it as it is actually watching someone open a Christmas surprise.
Put a bow on this time of year. It is Christmas enough for me.
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