A Christmas Carol

Ho Ho Ho...

Okay, screw it. I'll tell it to you straight: I hate have a fairly negative history with Christmas.

From being the adorable 2-year-old given a tiny-sized softball mitt and squishy ball, only to burst into tears and exclaim, "I don't even know what it is!" to the young adult dressing up as a goth for a practical joke/spiteful statement for my dad's side of the family (in particular my grandmother), I've often been a bit of a brat on this particular day. Every year I am a huge grinch... but I realize that being a spoilsport isn't much fun. So I've been working on my attitude and those reflex reactions that come out of nowhere to make the social constructs of Christmas more fun for myself and those around me.

I feel like putting some of this together as a way to explain why I probably will never have a collection of Christmas music or your typical giddiness as the day approaches.

Christmas Past:

Not to complain (as I realize that my attitude is mostly my reaction to situations, not from any particular person or cause), but rather to explain I'll ask the question: "Where did all of this grinching come from?"
After reflection I've decided it probably something to do with the pressure of being one of the oldest kids out of both sides of my family, the first girl (on both sides), and the total attention of waaay to many adults after being dragged around without a nap for days on end. While I've been an attention whore my whole life, something about those preliminary years definitely affected me:

As I grew up, I (young, sugar-charged, and sleep deprived) was asked to babysit and organize my younger, equally sugar-charged, sleep-deprived cousins into family Christmas pageants every year upon our arrival at grandma's, which my perfectionist nature made into much more traumatic experiences than necessary. Add in many many years worth of this constant self-inflicted pressure, my grandmother's eternal need to create drama out of nowhere, complicated relationships between my parents and other relatives, one year's explosive expletive-filled expulsion from the Hughes-family festivities, and a growing sarcastic nature and this is what you get:
Christmas Present:

A smile on my face? Me, wearing a red Christmas sweater dress? Is this really even possible?
Evidently it is. If...

I just do all my shopping online a few weeks ahead except for a few projects I can knit up on planes and a couple of little things to pick up in the last week. And then I avoid all Christmas things, even on the road where decorations and constant music are ubiquitous. Perhaps I get sick with an intense cold, and spend a couple of days on the couch, knitting and avoiding food prep (especially the exhausting cookie making). Then, on Christmas Eve, I regain my strength, finish my shopping, wrap everything, and help with the prep for dinner. Christmas day, I manage to nap a bit, work on the set up for the second party in two days, and focus on the constant clean-up and moving along of the festivities while my house is besieged by 20 other people. I make sure that the white elephant gift exchange has written rules and take control so that it moves along as quickly as possible, making it possible for everyone to leave by 9:30pm. Then I give up and escape at around 10:30pm, when a few of my cousins start clunking out "heart and soul" on the piano over, and over, and over... directly above my bedroom, and then continue for another hour.If I can still have a smile on my face after all that... I can manage Christmas.

Christmas Future:

I can remember one time in my 25 Christmases where I understood the Christmas spirit and enjoyed my family and everything about the holiday. That was the year where my immediate family was traveling in the Southwest--touring about about in an RV from Phoenix to Santa Fe (where we spent Christmas itself) and onwards to Monument Valley, Chaco Canyon, and the Grand Canyon.

So my ideal Chirstmas wish is to eventually re-create this holiday escape... I'd love to spend the holiday in a snowy place like New England, or in a German or French town with Christmas markets, somewhere warm for a tropical Christmas in sundresses, or even just escaping to a cabin by the Washington Coast or in the San Jauns. Somewhere new every other year... away from all of the traditions that make me feel the triggers of the past.But we always have to have a Big Freakin Tree.