The Most Blasphemous Time of the Year...

I can't stand Christmas. As it starts to loom large right after Halloween, I start to feel the stress and anxiety. I usually try to keep my sentiments to myself because the vapid chirping of those who try to convince me to be merry make me want to choke and maim the jolliness right out of them,even though I do admire those who can see something deeper in Christmas than I have been able to find.

The anxiety comes from having to create some semblance of holiday magic for my children. Its a difficult task to try to create holy magic out of resentment and scoffing. The commercialism of the whole season is nauseating, but what's a mom to do? I don't want to send my kids back to school having had stockings stuffed with apples and oranges while all the other kids got a holiday full of technology and reverent Hannah Montana worship. So,like a sheep, I follow the social norm and waste money on a bunch of crap, most of which will be buried and forgotten at the bottom of a toy box by Valentine's Day. The other stressor is trying to assume a demeanor that makes the relatives think I give a rip about any of it.

What's worse than the Santa hat-wearing, Rudolph-singing souls afflicted with the "Christmas Spirit" are those humorless types who want to admonish me for my lack of enthusiasm and call it a sacrelige. I mean no impiety. I decorate my pagan Christmas tree and hang my pagan mistletoe just like they do. I also understand that the "Reason for the Season" is the birth of Jesus (which possibly actually happened in the Spring), a man so radical for his time that if he came down now,with such extreme views and behavior for our era , these same people would probably ahem, crucify him. I just don't see that the obligation to buy for every single person you come into contact with everyday or the even worse obligation to spend time with people just because you happen to be related has anything to do with Jesus's birth. In any case, I doubt if even the pale-skinned,blue-eyed version of Jesus that the locals who are offended by my Grinchness worship would be pleased with the ridiculouness that's been manufactured of his "birthday".

I get the whole peace and goodwill bit,too but its kind of hard to swallow when people trample their fellow man to death in order to snag a bargain priced Wal-Mart Christmas gift. The only way I can stomach the holiday is to just accept it for what it really is, a superficial strain on the wallet created to demonstrate our love and reverence for Disney, Fisher Price,and Mattel. And though I admittedly enjoy watching my children's anticipation to receive their gifts on Christmas morning, gifts I fought crowds and waited in endless lines to acquire, I also know that all the sweet, baby awe and gratitude will go to Santa. If I try to make something more meaningful than a plastic,AA baterry-littered ploy to make money for "The Man" out of Christmas,then it just sets me up to try and meet impossible, Very Brady Christmas expectations. Therefore, I bake the cookies,buy the gadgets,and thank Jesus when its all finally over.