I love Halloween. I love costumes, I love trick-or-treating, I love scary movies, I love love love it all. My daughter and I make decorations, paint pumpkins, and trim the Halloween tree. Yes, I have a Halloween tree. Yes with ornaments. What am I, an animal?
But once Halloween is over… and as much as I truly believe we should all express gratitude on a daily basis, and as much as I enjoy eating Thanksgiving food, and as devoutly as I watch the Macy’s parade… I’m totally fine with starting Christmas season. Because FUCK YEAH CHRISTMAS.
I think this year especially, I am fine with the so-called Christmas creep. I need merry. I need bright. I need cheer. I need hot chocolate. There’s some truly horrible shit happening in the world, and Christmas feels like the opposite of that. Christmas is thoughtfulness, and love, and radiant joy on my daughter’s face.
We’ve already been watching Christmas movies and specials. And with my newfound love of baking, I’m researching all kinds of cookie recipes we can work on together. And the tree arrives December 5. Which is a little late for my tastes because I would decorate the tree at 12:01AM on the day after Thanksgiving if I could. But we will make it work.
As an orphan, I appreciate the unique memories of my family at holiday time. And I’m mindful of the fact that my daughter is building memories every year. Christmas is a time for magic, and I want to create that for her so that it stays with her for a lifetime. Each year I do a theme for Santa’s gifts, and make certain to hide the wrapping paper so she never stumbles upon it. We write a letter, and a thank you letter, to Santa every year. And I can’t wait to see what traditions we develop together.
Christmas is the mother fucking best. And this year, bring it on. We’ll still have a lovely Thanksgiving, even if we are bookending it with Christmas carols.