Yeah, yeah, Christmas is too commercialized; no one remembers the true spirit of the holiday, yadda, yadda. But the truth is, Santa is such an awesome part of childhood and I’m so freakin’ excited to jump back on that bandwagon.
I was a Santa freak as a kid. I’d write letters; I’d leave cookies; I’d toss and turn all night with excitement as my parents egged me on: “Are those reindeer we hear on the roof?,” they’d ask. I’d get out of bed at 12:01am. “It’s Christmas!!” They always made me go back to bed. But believe me, I’d be up just as soon as the sun, waking the whole family.
Even long after my sister ruined the Santa fantasy for me (“There’s no Santa, Holly. Your gifts are in the laundry room—see), I still really relished the season. I loved making fudge and Christmas candies with my mom. I loved going to the holiday craft fair at the Polish American Club. I loved decorating every square inch of our house with holiday-themed country geese and various suburban weirdness. And I loved reading my mom’s revised gift tags. As we got older, Santa no longer delivered gifts but Joey Mcintyre or Madonna. (That Madge was so thoughtful!)
After my mom died, Christmas just wasn’t, you know? But now that I have my very own itty bitty family, it’s so back. And I’m so stoked.
It's not even that I plan to go nuts this Christmas. I don't at all. I mean, I know Theo doesn't understand why he's on this old dude's lap (how quality is that Santa, by the way?) or anything like that yet. I guess I'm just excited for all the craziness and fun that future holidays hold.