What better time to look back at the year and think of all the wonderful things I loved about it than right before the apocalypse arrives, ushering in the end of the world. If the Mayans are to be believed, then all earthly matters should be wrapping up quite soon. This would be a shame for many reasons, but mainly because I’m only halfway through Downton Abbey Season Two, and I’ve never had the opportunity to travel to Australia. If the Mayans have predicted incorrectly, then that means I will have to finish my Christmas shopping. This portends a more personal, private chaos and a nervous breakdown that will lead to my sitting in a corner of a Five Below in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and chewing my hair.
Christmases of yore were relaxing. I’d put forth the minimum effort and be rewarded with food and presents just for showing up. As I’ve aged, I routinely go through a process in which I spend November getting excited for Christmas to come only to be rudely awakened by a list of chores and obstacles that stand between me and Christmas Day.
Just last night, I made the mistake of going to Target to pick up some last minute presents for family, and the scene was something similar to the first five minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Shelves were picked over like Soviet grocery stores, and people pushed and shoved for the last available copy of Fifty Shades of Gray. Grandma needs a gift this Christmas, too, after all. Every day I remember another person for whom I’m obligated to buy a gift. Luckily this year, I tapped into a new 21st century trend: online shopping. Unfortunately, whether you show up to the store or not, your wallet still gets considerably lighter.
I receive Christmas cards daily with pictures of my friends’ children propped in different poses, smiling or Santa’s lap or opening presents. They look so agreeable and delighted in the way that only beings with no cognizant memory skills can, nothing like the children that you see when you are out shopping. I line the children’s pictures up in order of cuteness and originality of picture. I imagine handing them out one by one, like on America’s Next Top Model. I’m sorry, little {blank}, but without a proper smile, you are no longer in the running towards being My End Table’s Cutest Christmas Baby.
Family issues always arise around holiday time, demanding time and energy and making you feel guilty for the plans you make. Luckily, my family is nothing like this. Kidding! As wonderful as my family is, planning for Christmas with them is an undertaking. I always need to be in several places at once. I supposed it better than not being wanted anywhere at all, but one of these Christmases, I’m just going to ask for my present to be a nap. Traveling is another issue altogether.
As visions of sugarplums dance in our heads, we expand ‘til we no longer fit in our beds. Our clothes become more snug as Christmas Day approaches from the caloric onslaught of the holiday season. It’s a wonderful life, all the parties replete with treacly desserts and potent potables, but the aftereffects will stay with us for long after. My personal fitness has already taken a turn for the worse as my time on the treadmill has become increasingly short compared to my time arranging the hoard of desserts in my desk file cabinet.
Isn’t it funny, though, how we forget all the problems that lead up to Christmas when we finally get to be around loved ones and relax when it’s all said and done? The real magic of Christmas is that we enjoy the holiday both because AND in spite of all of the problems and pressure leading up to it.
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