Scrooge Always Has A Choice

I both love and hate Christmas.

On one hand, I love everything about Christmas, from the music to the shopping excess to Santa Claus - and that's just the secular aspect. Despite being well aware of Christmas' origins, I love the religious aspects of the holiday. I read the story of Christ's birth AND Twas the Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve. I love stockings and anticipation that keeps kids from sleeping until 2 am just to get up at 5 am to jump on Mom and Dad's bed. I love chocolate santa's, Brach's Christmas candies, and those assorted nuts at the bottom of the stockings.

And I have some great memories of Christmas and Grandpa Bob and Grandma Lula Hopkins house, even though they had a (gasp) FAKE tree! Grandma did up Christmas just like Thanksgiving, but added homemade chocolate candy and chocolate fudge to the mix. There'd be candy bowls full all over the house. How much could I eat out of each one before people started to notice?

But Christmas also stresses me out beyond belief. To the point my wife thinks that I actually HATE Christmas. She's right. I get incredibly tense thinking about whether or not everyone will be happy with what they get (that costs HOW MUCH? then multiply by six...who's going to think they're ripped off? why aren't I a millionaire yet?). I hate dealing with 'arrangements' - where are we going when and to what? Externally, I'm always pretending not to worry, and that we should be happy even if we have a Christmas like they had on Little House on the Prairie when Laura only got a small doll, a tin cup, and a penny. This does not instill confidence in my wife. But internally I'm fretting not living up to the perfection I really want Christmas to be.

Beyond those conscious, somewhat logical irritations, I also have a visceral response to the season that puts me on edge, tensing me with increasing power the closer we get to the 25th, until I'm so stressed and tired that Christmas morning its all I can do to smile and pretend to enjoy watching the wrapping paper fly through the air.

If I was talking with Oprah, I'd probably talk about my parent's divorce and all the Christmases that followed without Dad. I might open up about the many relationships, even an engagement that crumbled over the Christmas holidays. If I was talking with Dave Ramsey, he might suggest I adjust my expectations to my income - though if I were talking to Tony Robbins, he'd tell me to adjust my income to my expectations.
Maybe its just knowing the kids are home for 2 weeks and my productivity is doomed to dive-bomb dramatically.

In the end, all of these excuses for me to be an annually grouchy humbugger are not worthy of the Champions of Choice. The Past is Past, the Present (and Presents) is just fine, and the Future is ours to decide. I never chose to feel negative during the holidays. I didn't think I could control it, as deep-seeded as the emotions were. That's the key - I didn't think I had a choice. Of course, I do. Whether it's Christmas, Fourth of July, or Bastille Day, how we feel, and the actions reflecting those feelings, are completely within our control.

This year, I'm choosing to enjoy every second of Christmas, even if it kills me. I'm certain the kids will be happy with what they're getting - we've been blessed beyond belief this year. The decorations are up and the music is blasting (Harry Connick Jr., at the moment). We're handling the event and the food here this year, eliminating any concerns about who sees who for how long. The real test will come if anything goes awry, I suppose.

I have loved and hated Christmas, know it or not, by choice. Time to choose just love. Which is, after all, what this season should be about in the first place. Welcome home kids - let's have a great Christmas break....now go clean your rooms!