Ah, the holiday season. That time of year when I transform into Jolly Old Saint Nick—until something tangles my tinsel. Then you'd better watch out! Sit back, laugh, cry, and maybe even question my sanity as you read my holiday journal. Merry Christmas!
November 29
Christmas Season Officially Begins
So what if Thanksgiving's late arrival leaves only 26 days until Christmas. That's plenty of time, even though I'm jetting off to North Carolina for eight days to deliver some holiday joy to our younger daughter, leaving me 18 days to make Christmas magic.
November 30-December 1
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!
After a rousing game of "Where did you move the Christmas bins?" I triumphantly throw open the lids. This year, I'm elevating my decorating. Literally. The nativity, stockings, poinsettias, and other decorations are strategically placed in the nosebleed section, safely out of the reach of our grandson—a 22-pound, one-toddler demolition crew.
December 2
Cyber Monday
I've performed finger-strengthening exercises for weeks, training for a day such as this. Eager to dive into an epic shopping spree, I wake early. The hours fly as I comparison shop between multiple retailers. When I'm finally ready to order, everything comes to a screeching halt. It seems the only person my passwords keep out of my online accounts is me! I reset them all to "I'mbeginningt0spendal0tlikeChristmas!" By evening, the majority of items on my gift list sit in the queues of virtual shopping carts across the World Wide Web. I celebrate by propping up my feet and ordering pizza for dinner.
December 3-4
Christmas Greetings!
Throwing a toddler into the mix makes gathering the clan for a family picture similar to herding raccoons. Have you ever seen an angry raccoon? Not a good Christmas card look. Add to that the fact that Jay and I aren't getting any younger. I'm actually considering filing a class action lawsuit against the manufacturer of our anti-aging cream. Anyone else in?
If I knew how to photoshop, I'd paste a photo of Jay and I from a couple of decades ago along with a flattering photo of each daughter, Grandson, and the family dogs. But alas, that exceeds my digital skills.
Maybe I could enlist Artificial Intelligence to whip up images to portray us as jet-setters frolicking on an Australian beach, looking like we did on our wedding day. But do I really want to get that cozy with AI? Probably not. So, good old-fashioned Christmas cards it is.
December 5
Beloved Christmas Letter
Why do witty thoughts dance in my head, like a sugar plum dance-off, right up until the moment my fingers hover over my keyboard to write my Christmas letter? But then at 1 a.m., as soon as I log off my laptop, humorous anecdotes dash in faster than a reindeer with a jet pack. It's late, my tinsel's tangled into a knot, and my notepad is nowhere to be found, so I don't jot notes. "I'll remember them," I whisper to myself, knowing full well it's a big fat lie.
December 6
Christmas is About Families
I volunteer at an event organized by our church where we entertain the children of families in our community for three hours in the evening, giving their parents a chance to go Christmas shopping or to simply enjoy a date night.
Right on time, the parents drop off their excited youngsters. The volunteers appear done for, with kiddos outnumbering adults three to one. My pulse races, and my tinsel starts to tangle until what to my wondering eyes should appear, but teen reinforcements from the church's youth group ready to volunteer! Boosted by the adrenaline of the teenage enlistees, the whole group dives into a fun evening of pizza, crafts, and a movie.
December 7-9
The Sounds of Christmas:
Grandson's "dee, dee, dee" in pitch with the Christmas music. I'm pretty sure he's ready for American Idol: Toddler Edition.
The tap, tap, tap of Grandson's feet while looking like he's a member of a Riverdance troupe as he observes the Christmas lights and decorations.
Grandson's mama's squeals of glee as she watches him getting caught up in the wonder of the season.
Our Bichon Frise's manic barking every time a delivery driver dares to drop off packages of Christmas cheer at our doorstep each day!
The smoke alarm shrieking because I forgot to set the timer on the batch of pumpkin chocolate chip scones I'm baking for gifts. (Click here for recipe.)
The tangling of tinsel as my daughter and husband taste test—for the benefit of the recipients—the unburned scones, resulting in me needing to bake an additional batch.
The Christmas classic, Die Hard, when Jay raises the volume so he can hear it over the clatter I make in the kitchen.
The ripping of instructions while Jay puts together Grandson's "some assembly required" gifts. I hear the tangling of someone else's tinsel for a change. (Aw, this brings back memories from Christmases past when our daughters were young.)
The pizza place's phone ringing as I order pizza again.
December 10
Artificial Intelligence Friend or Foe?
Basically every retailer I ever considered ordering from and Facebook bombard me daily with suggestions for perfect gifts for everyone on my list. With recommendations like whole body deodorant—that's not the least bit insulting—and a Best of Justin Bieber album, I seriously doubt the intelligence in Artificial Intelligence. But every now and then, an ad's so spot on, it confirms they're listening to our every conversation, maybe even our thoughts. While I hate to encourage their methods, Jay is really going to love those seafoam bath mats Amazon suggested. He may not realize he wanted them, but as soon as he opens it, it'll be his favorite gift!
December 11-12
I Love Gift Wrapping!
Beautiful paper, bows, and items in need of wrapping surround me. What's not to love? The first thirty minutes, I spit out beautifully wrapped boxes with straight lines and crisp corners. As time ticks on, things slide downhill faster than the fat guy on a snowboard. The scissors and tape keep hiding, and the seams of the paper don't always meet. The gaps are on the underside of the packages. Will the wrapping police fine me? I think not.
During the second hour, a blue wagon tests me. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I take the bull by the horns, twirling the paper around it like a calf roper executing a tie-down and securing it all with packing tape. It may not be pretty, but Grandson won't mind.
I can't put the wrapped packages in plain sight until Christmas. Grandson would rip the paper off all of them faster than you can say, "No!" Instead, I hide them under the beds, on upper shelves, and any other available space. I pray I can find them all on Christmas morn. I grab the phone to order pizza.
December 13-15
Emerging From the Stone Ages
When I'm cleaning the house, great ideas for the Christmas letter taunt me, but something about logging onto my laptop wipes my mind clean like when you shake an Etch A Sketch. With my tinsel knotting, I raise a white flag. Another Christmas classic, Bridget Jones's Diary, entertains me while I sign Christmas cards and stick address labels and stamps onto the envelopes. They'll be ready for mailing as soon as I finish that #*@! letter.
I finally accept the chances of composing a letter in time to arrive by Christmas are as slim as me not ordering pizza for dinner. But hold the pepperoni! If I join the technology age and create a QR code to my blog, my recipients can simply scan it to visit my blog and read about our shenanigans over the past year. No letter is needed. It doesn't matter that I don't know how to create a QR code, I'll just ask Google.
The QR code is printed and inserted into the Christmas cards. And wouldn't you know it? As soon as the cards slide down the mail chute at the post office, a million clever tales I could've shared pop into my head. Argh!!!!
December 16
Better Watch Out!
There's so much to do before I leave for North Carolina tomorrow! Meals to prepare for Jay, sheets to change, loads of laundry to run, bathrooms to clean, gifts to wrap, and luggage to pack. My tinsel hopelessly tangles. Hubby recognizes the feral look on my face and assures me he will not starve, can sleep soundly on week old sheets, and is capable of buying underwear if he runs out. But my primal urge to ensure survival of the tribe won't allow me to let it go. My daughter offers to help, but I decline. She's already chasing Grandson around who has the energy of a caffeinated squirrel. Sometime past 2 a.m., I finally stumble into bed.
December 17
Travel Day
While I operate on a few hours of sleep, my awesome husband drives me 3 hours to the airport, instead of me driving and leaving my car in long-term parking. He probably wants to make sure I board that plane so he can enjoy a few days of tangle-free tinsel.
Two flights, a one-hour layover, and nine-and-a-half hours later, I land in Durham at 11:00 p.m.
Seeing my daughter, aka Texas Time—her hiker name given because she resided in Texas when she hiked the Pacific Crest Trail—waiting for me brings frozen tears to my eyes. Happy tears, frozen by the ridiculously cold North Carolina temperature! I don't think I packed enough warm clothing.
December 18-20
Busy Work
Each morning, at 8 a.m. Eastern Time/5 a.m. Pacific Time, I'm awakened by slobbery kisses from Scully and Mulder, the resident Lakeland Terrier alarms.
While my daughter's out, I keep myself busy:
Walking the Lakies a couple of times each day in the cheek-numbing cold
Pretending I'm a fairy godmother while cleaning the apartment
Ordering gift-wrapping essentials and fudge ingredients from Target's pickup service
Making Bailey's Irish Cream Fudge (click here for recipe) after picking up the ingredients.
In the evenings, Texas Time and I watch cheesy Christmas movies and poke fun at the predictable plots.
December 21
Shop 'Til You Drop
At REI, Texas Time's preferred gift headquarters:
Texas Time points out gift options then makes herself scarce.
I wrestle over whether to totally blow the top off my Christmas budget and buy everything she showed me or stick to my budget like a miserly Scrooge.
The match ends in a draw when my purchases take the middle ground.
We reunite and Texas Time exercises appropriate Christmas etiquette, pretending not to notice the shopping bags I carry.
As we dash to The Streets at Southpoint Mall, I imagine strolling to piped-in Christmas tunes in a mall decked out like a Winter Wonderland.
The reality of The Streets at Southpoint Mall:
Drivers battle over scarce shopping spaces with horns blaring and hand gestures flying. Those hand signals are sure to land the gesturer on Santa's naughty list.
Our extremities numb while walking from the outer banks of the parking lot to the mall entrance.
Inside the mall, the undertow of people quickly sucks us in.
I can't appreciate the decorations while trapped in the undercurrent.
If music plays, the din of the crowd drowns it out.
Angling through the tide of shoppers, I pull Texas Time to the side and yell, "Let's break out of this joint and pick up pizza on the way home."
Back in the blissful quiet of the apartment, I release the top button of my pants while we devour our pepperoni and pineapple pizza. No more pizza will top my New Year's resolutions, but for now, I enjoy the pie.
December 22
Gift Wrapping Perils
Scully and Mulder suffer from a type of PTSD triggered by the sound of rustling paper or plastic bags. Since I'm rather fond of my fingers, Texas Time whisks the Lakies out for a walk, to allow me to crinkle paper without fearing an attack. When the coast is clear, I swiftly drop most purchases into gift bags, but I wrap a few because a primitive satisfaction arises when ripping away gift wrap to reveal the prize.
December 23, the Eve of Christmas Eve
Every Good Thing Must Come to an End
On the last evening of my visit, we head to The Pit for barbecue. The large portions leave plenty of fried chicken, brisket, sweet potato casserole, and green beans for Texas Time's Christmas Eve meal and maybe enough for Christmas Day. This alleviates my worry that she could starve by herself during Christmas.
Glowing lights lure us into a neighborhood on the drive back. The displays are lovely. A couple shine so brightly they appear to be trying to communicate with life on distant planets.
Back at the apartment, too stuffed to move, we settle onto the sofa to watch Elf.
December 24, Christmas Eve
Home Sweet Home
The entire flight home, my heart breaks to leave Texas Time alone on Christmas Day. Sure she hiked over 2600 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail, but let's be honest, she can't even match her socks most days.
Jay meets me at the curb in Medford, grinning like he won a game of Survivor: Home Edition. He appears well fed and rested. Does no one need me? I mean, I know the goal is to train everyone to be self-sufficient, but come on, give me a break.
I've been up since 6 a.m. Eastern Time/3 a.m. Pacific Time. Skipping the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service tempts me, but Jesus is the reason for the season. Attending the service seems the right thing to do.
Such a beautiful service. I'm glad I came. The candles represent Jesus—the light of the world. He commands us to let our light shine. Peace flows through the sanctuary as we worship our Savior with our church community.
Later, I unleash gift wrap central and properly dress the presents that arrived while I slacked off in North Carolina. Then I haul the mother load from their hiding places. I might have overdone the gifting. The scene looks like an avalanche of packages buried the Norfolk Island Pine. I collapse into bed at 11 p.m. after 20 waking hours.
December 25
Christmas Day
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord." Luke 2:10-11 NIV
A REI shopping bag stands front and center of the gifts surrounding the tree. Jay puts no effort into wrapping. He doesn't even bother with an official gift bag. His purchase simply remains in the shopping bag. Actually, the festive bag looks as nice as a gift bag, except for the large retailer's name and logo. I underestimated my husband. He's a gift wrapping genius.
Grandson has no idea today is the day he gets to tear into presents, but he wakes early. He and his mama arrive just before eight. Maybe he sensed his mama's excitement. Eyes wide, he zooms straight to the gifts.
We hold him off until Texas Time joins in the fun via Face Time. Wrapping paper flies as Grandson tears into his gifts and ours too, not caring what lies within, until his grandpa carries in the clumsily wrapped wagon.After stripping the paper away, he clutches it with a vice-like grip.Grandson's delight might burst the joy meter, but his mama's exponentially exceeds his.
The seafoam bath mats are Jay's favorite gift, right after the Kuhl pants, Dutch Bros gift card, and socks.
We offer up a prayer of thanks for our salvation and the blessings Jesus bestows on us year round before we end the video call with Texas Time. After our new traditional Christmas lunch of chili and cornbread, I offer thanks for the stretchy pants that will get me through to the New Year at which time I'll give up pizza.
Rejoicing that the Christmas preparations are finished, I think I'll take a nap while Grandson does. But first, I rewrap the boxes that held his gifts to give him the pleasure of ripping off the paper one more time. I may even do it again tomorrow.
A Serious Note
The holiday season often brings joy, but it can just as easily turn ugly with financial challenges. While we may jest about Christmas overspending, maxing out your credit cards or draining your bank account to the point essentials may be at risk is far from humorous.
For parents, it can be particularly daunting to balance financial constraints with the desire to fulfill their children's every holiday wish. Consider an open conversation with your kiddos about choosing gifts that will bring lasting joy and engagement beyond the excitement of Christmas Day. Teaching them the value of money and thoughtful spending might be the best gift you give to them.
Look for free or low-cost holiday activities for the family and place more emphasis on making lasting memories.
Remember, the essence of Christmas isn't found in material possessions, especially for adults who may already have everything they need. Embrace the spirit of giving and receiving with grace. If you find yourself on the receiving end of generosity, accept it graciously and, when circumstances allow, pay it forward.
A Merry Christmas to all!
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I wish you all a fantastic Christmas and hope you enjoyed my Christmas journal. If you'd like to read more of my blogs, join my monthly email list by clicking the Join Now button and providing your name and email address.
Angela L Gold is the author of The Lion Within and Kill Shot.