I am not a Christmas disdainer. I love Christmas, always have, especially since I moved to Bavaria. It’s so sparkly and pretty and fun with the lights and glühwein and Christmas markets and finding an ornament for each of the boys and playing Christmas music nonstop until my husband runs screaming from the room every time I head for the stereo. And I was planning to do it UP this year, our last Bavarian Advent (we’ll be back for Christmases, I’m pretty sure, but the whole run-up is also wonderful, and we won’t be here for that), but… I don’t know, I just didn’t. Couldn’t? Haven’t yet, if we’re being optimistic, I guess there’s still time.
My head is just so full of work and kids and moving and things I can’t do anything about (ongoing financial crisis, recent death in the extended family) that I can’t concentrate on anything long enough to get it done. I didn’t make it to a single Christmas market, even the miniature one here in OurTown – today was the last chance, and the kids are sick so I shouldn’t take them out in the rain and without kids it’s a bit less pointy. I haven’t wrapped the presents yet, I’m not even sure I have all of them – every time I try to sit down and think it through, I get sidetracked.
I manage little bits, here and there. I bought a tree. It’s out on the patio. I have some gifts, probably too many for some people and not enough for others (I am Christmas Command Central: everyone in the family asks me what they should get for everyone else, so yes I am responsible for multiple presents per person). But I just can’t seem to find my usual cheery Christmas spirit.
Maybe it’s in the basement somewhere.
Song du jour of the day: A Long December, by Counting Crows. Amy was so right. Except of course, the song reminds me that a lot of people have bigger problems than I have, which should maybe make me feel better, but instead it makes me feel like a whiny ungrateful butthead.