Christmas is hard work - there I said it and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
As kids, we are brought up to believe Christmas is a magical time when elves make presents that are delivered right to your chimney by a jolly man in a red suit who arrives in a flying sleigh powered by deer.
So when you grow up and realize you actually have to drive on icy roads to the mall, circle a parking lot for hours to find a spot, wrestle your way through a mob of toy-hungry parents, stand in a line of 4,392 people and then get the gift home, hide it, wrap it and put it under the tree on that faithful night, it is a bit of a let down.
Don’t get me wrong, I think we should let children believe in something magical and some of my favourite childhood memories are of Christmas Eve when I would set out cookies and milk for Santa, carrots for his reindeer and then wake up at the crack of dawn to see if they had eaten them.
It’s just that because of that magical introduction to what Christmas is all about even as adults we often have a hard time admitting to ourselves that Christmas is actually a lot of work.
It starts in about October when you realize the season is approaching. You start listening to friends’ and family members’ conversations a bit closer and paying more attention. Did grandma just say her comforter is getting old and she could use a new one? Is your husband’s winter jacket getting a bit rough around the edges?
Then there is Christmas baking. You must figure out what you are going to make for everyone. (Is Sally still on her gluten free kick? Did someone say Jen’s new boyfriend is a vegan?). You must go out and buy all the ingredients (what is agar-agar and where do I get it?) and then spend hours mixing and checking and rechecking the oven to make sure everything comes out just right.
This brings us to Christmas cards. Whoever thought up this tradition is just plain mean. It is nearly impossible to find something to say to all your long-lost, distant relatives about what you did over the last year and what you hope the new one will bring. Add to that the fact that I make a list of everyone I know’s addresses every year only to misplace it and have to start all over again.
Once the cards are sent at the perfect time (not too early or people will put them away for ‘later’ and forget where they are and not too late or they will go directly into the garbage), it is time to find the perfect gift for everyone on your list.
If your list is anything like mine, it is about as long as your arm and although you can easily think of things your close friends want or need (perhaps it is time for a Keurig for that friend who invites you over for an instant coffee), some can be harder to buy for.
If you aren’t even sure if Jen’s new boyfriend is off animal products how can you find him the perfect present that will make his eyes light up?
Then there is the challenge of buying for that person who buys themselves whatever they want, right before Christmas. There is nothing like figuring out exactly what they want/need only to have them tell you they got a great deal on it three days before Dec. 25.
I’ve already alluded to the stress of holiday shopping, need I say more?
Despite my long rant about all the effort this time of year brings, I love Christmas time.
I truly feel Christmas is like anything else in life: If it’s not hard work, it’s not worth doing.
