Oh right. The Holidays.
Today I went to Target because we ran out of like every household item ever. It was a terrible. There were like 400 people in that one store alone. I'm not good in crowds like that. Which is kind of weird because I really like cities. But when there are so many people in Target that I can't even push my shopping cart around, it's supremely annoying. But I was proud of myself, not only did I actually get a shopping cart (which I find the most irritating contraption ever but necessary due to the large number of things I had to buy), but I also remained calm, no matter how many people I had to maneuver around or how many pushy college kids I almost ran over. I didn't freak out. Yay me!
It always gives me a new perspective though, when I go shopping near the holidays. People are crazy with their materialism. Do you really think your friends and family need all this stuff? I know they're all rushing around to buy Aunt Margie a necklace she'll hate or Cousin Mikey a sweater he'll return. As an adult, Christmas changes a lot. In some ways, it's nicer, I think I get more excited about my Christmas tree now than I did when I was a kid. Every night since Thanksgiving I've lit candles around the house and bought wreaths and Nina got us some berries to decorate the doorways with. It makes things feel homier, and I love to feel peaceful at home. But in another way it's extremely stressful. I have cookies to bake and to find a way to transport a tree from the store to my living room. I have holiday cards to send to every friend I've ever had, I have presents to buy for bosses, friends, family members. And as the years pass, I appreciate more and more my family's approach to the holiday; we do a secret santa and buy gifts for only one sibling each and then our parents.
With Brad's family it's been a bit more difficult for me. Not that they demand presents of course, and Brad never gets them any, at all, ever, but I feel awkward showing up to his mother's house empty-handed while they all hand me presents with big bows and shiny wrapping paper. So I usually try to make them each something small. One year I did some food-mix-jar-things, the ones where you put all the dry ingredients in a jar or a pretty bottle and attach instructions on how to make the item along with it. They were really simple and made great gifts. Last year I made them all cookies and put them in cute tins. Adrienne helped me a lot with those. Big thank you, Adie, for that, by the by. This year I decided to make them candles. (Don't worry none of them read this blog.) It's surprisingly simple; you can buy a big block of wax at your local crafts store and turn pretty much any container into a holder. I'm using wine glasses and each person/couple gets two. That way, after the candle burns out, they can use the glasses too. I'm super excited about this, because I stole the idea from a little gift shop at the pumpkin farm we went to in October. Their candles were wine-scented. They only used regular wine glasses, but I thought, hey, why not use champagne flutes, margarita glasses, or even martini and shot glasses? It was such a cute idea.
I try to make them things because it's more personal for me, less expensive, and more meaningful too. I spend a decent amount of time thinking about who would like what kind of candle or soup mix or cookie tin. I like it. It makes me feel like I'm really doing something special. When I can't make someone something or I'm in a bit of a rush, I go to 10,000 Villages in Squirrel Hill, the fair trade store that sells hand-made items by impoverished peoples from around the world. So it makes it a little more palatable, all this consumption. I kind of dread the day when I have children; it seems like Christmas takes over the entire house when they're small. It's especially hard I think, when the child has divorced parents or parents who were never together to begin with. I see a lot of times affection is attempted to be won with material items. I can't even begin to explain how much this bothers me. I always tell myself that when the day comes I'm going to tell all relatives and friends that we only accept one present per child from each person/couple/family in my house so please don't buy or bring more. Children really don't need that much (as my friend Kristie always says, I see kids just as happy to play with a empty cardboard box as an expensive toy), and I don't want to teach them that hundreds of impersonal plastic toys equate love. I would probably feel bad about turning away gifts, but it's like the facebook friends thing. It has to stop somewhere.
In closing, I'd like to share a memory about my dad from when I was a child. I remember I used to wait until my younger sisters would fall asleep (we all slept in the same twin bed for like 10 years even though we each had separate ones, I have no idea how we all fit but somehow we managed) and then I would go downstairs and tell my parents that I couldn't sleep. This was a pretty common habit for me. When you're one of the many middle children of 6 and you're not the loudest, most rebellious, or worst-behaved, you get attention where you can. My parents' first questions was always, "Are the other girls asleep?" But I always knew to wait until they were so I could answer yes, at which point they'd let me have a treat, like a cookie or some warm milk with vanilla and sugar. One night I started my usual routine and it must have been pretty close to Christmas because we had our tree up. My dad and my brothers would cut it down in the forest near our house and drag it in. On this particular night my dad was sitting alone in the living room, with all the lights off, on our old leather couch and gingerbread cookie in hand, looking at the Christmas tree lights flash. So I snuggled up to him under a blanket and we talked about how much we liked having only the Christmas lights sparkle in the darkness and how pretty our tree was. I remember this vividly because as a child my father and I were not very close. I was pretty mean to him. I never wanted to hug or kiss him. I think a lot of this had to do with the fact that he was the disciplinarian in our family and I saw him as a sort of constant threat of a spanking. But that night he was just my dad, a really warm dad too, one that I could talk to about what I was hoping for from Santa and really enjoy the magic of the tree. I hope to bring back some of the innocence for my own holiday this year, starting with getting our very own Christmas tree tomorrow(!).
It always gives me a new perspective though, when I go shopping near the holidays. People are crazy with their materialism. Do you really think your friends and family need all this stuff? I know they're all rushing around to buy Aunt Margie a necklace she'll hate or Cousin Mikey a sweater he'll return. As an adult, Christmas changes a lot. In some ways, it's nicer, I think I get more excited about my Christmas tree now than I did when I was a kid. Every night since Thanksgiving I've lit candles around the house and bought wreaths and Nina got us some berries to decorate the doorways with. It makes things feel homier, and I love to feel peaceful at home. But in another way it's extremely stressful. I have cookies to bake and to find a way to transport a tree from the store to my living room. I have holiday cards to send to every friend I've ever had, I have presents to buy for bosses, friends, family members. And as the years pass, I appreciate more and more my family's approach to the holiday; we do a secret santa and buy gifts for only one sibling each and then our parents.
With Brad's family it's been a bit more difficult for me. Not that they demand presents of course, and Brad never gets them any, at all, ever, but I feel awkward showing up to his mother's house empty-handed while they all hand me presents with big bows and shiny wrapping paper. So I usually try to make them each something small. One year I did some food-mix-jar-things, the ones where you put all the dry ingredients in a jar or a pretty bottle and attach instructions on how to make the item along with it. They were really simple and made great gifts. Last year I made them all cookies and put them in cute tins. Adrienne helped me a lot with those. Big thank you, Adie, for that, by the by. This year I decided to make them candles. (Don't worry none of them read this blog.) It's surprisingly simple; you can buy a big block of wax at your local crafts store and turn pretty much any container into a holder. I'm using wine glasses and each person/couple gets two. That way, after the candle burns out, they can use the glasses too. I'm super excited about this, because I stole the idea from a little gift shop at the pumpkin farm we went to in October. Their candles were wine-scented. They only used regular wine glasses, but I thought, hey, why not use champagne flutes, margarita glasses, or even martini and shot glasses? It was such a cute idea.
I try to make them things because it's more personal for me, less expensive, and more meaningful too. I spend a decent amount of time thinking about who would like what kind of candle or soup mix or cookie tin. I like it. It makes me feel like I'm really doing something special. When I can't make someone something or I'm in a bit of a rush, I go to 10,000 Villages in Squirrel Hill, the fair trade store that sells hand-made items by impoverished peoples from around the world. So it makes it a little more palatable, all this consumption. I kind of dread the day when I have children; it seems like Christmas takes over the entire house when they're small. It's especially hard I think, when the child has divorced parents or parents who were never together to begin with. I see a lot of times affection is attempted to be won with material items. I can't even begin to explain how much this bothers me. I always tell myself that when the day comes I'm going to tell all relatives and friends that we only accept one present per child from each person/couple/family in my house so please don't buy or bring more. Children really don't need that much (as my friend Kristie always says, I see kids just as happy to play with a empty cardboard box as an expensive toy), and I don't want to teach them that hundreds of impersonal plastic toys equate love. I would probably feel bad about turning away gifts, but it's like the facebook friends thing. It has to stop somewhere.
In closing, I'd like to share a memory about my dad from when I was a child. I remember I used to wait until my younger sisters would fall asleep (we all slept in the same twin bed for like 10 years even though we each had separate ones, I have no idea how we all fit but somehow we managed) and then I would go downstairs and tell my parents that I couldn't sleep. This was a pretty common habit for me. When you're one of the many middle children of 6 and you're not the loudest, most rebellious, or worst-behaved, you get attention where you can. My parents' first questions was always, "Are the other girls asleep?" But I always knew to wait until they were so I could answer yes, at which point they'd let me have a treat, like a cookie or some warm milk with vanilla and sugar. One night I started my usual routine and it must have been pretty close to Christmas because we had our tree up. My dad and my brothers would cut it down in the forest near our house and drag it in. On this particular night my dad was sitting alone in the living room, with all the lights off, on our old leather couch and gingerbread cookie in hand, looking at the Christmas tree lights flash. So I snuggled up to him under a blanket and we talked about how much we liked having only the Christmas lights sparkle in the darkness and how pretty our tree was. I remember this vividly because as a child my father and I were not very close. I was pretty mean to him. I never wanted to hug or kiss him. I think a lot of this had to do with the fact that he was the disciplinarian in our family and I saw him as a sort of constant threat of a spanking. But that night he was just my dad, a really warm dad too, one that I could talk to about what I was hoping for from Santa and really enjoy the magic of the tree. I hope to bring back some of the innocence for my own holiday this year, starting with getting our very own Christmas tree tomorrow(!).
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