The Kid Has Arrived

In which I detail one of the many ways that I am the worst

There are a few people in my Facebook feed who’ve done a daily countdown to Christmas since October. Some people may find this annoying, but I actually find it useful. I, too, am counting down, except I’m counting down the days until Christmas is over and I don’t have to hear or think about it again for another 340 days or so.

Matt put our little Christmas tree up last night while Milo was eating dinner. Milo has barely acknowledged that the tree exists. I tried to show him the Ruldoph the Reindeer show that evening, but he hated it and started crying. Maybe he does take after me a little bit after all, inheriting my complete disinterest in all things Christmas-related, awwww. Or maybe it’s just because it’s way up on the table, out of his sight line.

I don’t know why I’m so indifferent to Christmas. I mean, what’s not to like, right? Decorations! Presents! Sugar and fat-laden foods to expand your waistline! 

And yet, I was really happy when I didn’t have to observe Christmas in any way for about ten years. One of the benefits of working for Jewish organizations is that you might work on Christmas, but you get like 4 paid days off during Passover (when the weather is nicer) and, depending on the lunar calendar that year, like a zillion days off during the fall. I only started celebrating Christmas again when I met Matt. My mother in law loves Christmas with the fervor and enthusiasm that is particular to Jewish women who have fully and joyfully converted to Christmas (not Christianity, mind you). She puts up a beautiful tree, and when the boys were younger, used to bake what sounds like hundreds of cookies and do all sorts of holidayish things with them. Because I love her, I try to muster up enthusiasm for this time of year, although I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replicate her energy.

I don’t think it’s a total bah-humbug attitude on my part—I mean, I think other people’s decorations are pretty, I enjoy looking at people’s Christmas trees when I’m at their house and it’s not that I hate getting presents…I just, I don’t know, I don’t really get the excitement. I don’t care about drinking peppermint-flavored beverages. I find Christmas music to be excruciatingly cloying. I have no desire to bake cookies. (Although this last one might be directly attributable to the amount of counter space in my kitchen:

I mean come on, right? Who wants to bake when that’s the space you have to work with?)

Maybe my disinterest in Christmas boils down to the fact that I am one of the laziest people on earth and completely lacking in sentimentality. I hate shopping, even online shopping, especially for adults. All I can think about is how this person doesn’t actually need anything because they are an adult and as an adult, if they needed something, they would have already bought it for themselves because they are an adult. If I try to go the route of something someone would like, it’s like…dude, you don’t really need this extra thing in your house that will just take up space, wouldn’t you rather have me take this money I’d spend on something you don’t need and donate it to a needy family so they can buy a gift for their kid? So…yeah, as you can see, I really know how to take the enjoyment out of a holiday. You’re welcome!

I’m not a total monster though. I think that Christmas is a very nice holiday for children. I appreciate wanting kids to have a good time. I will spend the next few years trying to fake some enthusiasm. I will not once mention or hint how annoying Christmas is. I will make salt dough ornaments and cutting out snowflake shapes. I will drag him to see a Santa and get a picture of him screaming his head off while on Santa’s lap. I will talk up Santa, I will…I don’t know. What else do people do to get kids excited for Christmas? Whatever it is, I will do it. And, who knows, maybe I will feel some genuine excitement creep in to my cold, cold heart. But for this one last year, when he is too young to understand or care about the concept of Christmas and all of its trappings, I am going to enjoy doing absolutely nothing about it.