…Environment Canada gave to me… ice pellets and a whole lot of cold winter wind. And some snow, to be fair.
Yesterday’s weather was fairly craptacular, but I have to ask… where was the white stuff all December, huh? It would have been useful in the run-up to Christmas, if only to make me feel more festive.
Christmas has come and gone for another year, and I have to be honest: I was not feeling it. Not even remotely. There was rain and darkness for most of November AND December, and as I mentioned in a previous post, for someone like me who suffers from SAD in the dark months, I just wanted to curl up and hibernate.
So I was not feeling particularly festive. Which my long-excessive-Christmas-decoration-suffering husband can tell you, is pretty unusual.
I did a lot of the stuff I normally do, like making 40-plus dozen cookies to give to friends, and buying all the presents, and helping get the decorations out and up, but I was not feeling particularly festive about it.
So when Christmas rolled around, I did the things. I watched White Christmas like I do each year. I delivered packets of cookies and cards like I usually do. I made the hors d’oeuvres and drank the Bailey’s and all that. But I felt kind of like I was phoning it in.
I felt like it was something I SHOULD do, something I HAD TO do, because of That Girl. And I admit that I feel kind of guilty about that.
The thing is, she’s seven. Christmas should absolutely always be a time of wonder and excitement and joy for her. It’s my job to ensure that happens. But I worry that I am transparent, that she can see that I was just not feeling the Christmas spirit.
I am sure she did not, or at least, I am pretty sure. She was so excited on Christmas Eve, she could not sleep. She came up an hour and a half after going to bed and very nearly foiled our Santa-based preparations around the tree. She was positively vibrating with excitement the next morning, and plowed through the ridiculous number of gifts with her name on them in record time. She danced from present to present, toy to toy. Santa had come.
But I felt like any time, she would look at me and see that I was just not as excited and Christmassy as I should be.
And now it’s over. We have been blanket-fort-ing all holiday, and now that the weather has gotten sloppy, will continue to do so. We are playing with our various Christmas presents and playing video games and computer games and watching movies. And not cooking or cleaning or doing much of anything besides relaxing, really. Which as been nice. We haven’t even cooked our turkey dinner yet.
Last night we had breakfast for dinner. So. Lots of easy comfort food.
Even the “snowstorm” was half-assed. Starting out as “ooh, 20 centimetres!” it slowly got downgraded to ice pellets and freezing rain and then just rain. It didn’t even try. Although our perpetually optimistic neighbour is nevertheless out there snowblowing what did come, bless him.
This year feels kind of like the Christmas That Wasn’t Really. I did get some wonderful presents, and was happy to be home and relaxing with my family, and am glad that they had what seems to have been a lovely day. I am glad that my daughter still has the joy and wonder at Santa’s magic, and still felt the anticipation of his arrival and the absolute thrill of all that he brought for her.
But I did not get that feeling, that deep-down excitement and anticipation of the season and the joy in the preparation, that I usually feel. I am kind of sad about that.
There’s always next year. And hopefully the weather can help with that a little bit, if I put my order in now.