Trees And Panic And Church. And Drinking.

"I have no idea what's happening!"- Suzy

I've been feeling very behind, rather frantic, and Not. In. The. Holiday. Spirit. At. All.

And as ads (and Facebook) have been reminding me...there's only a few short weeks left to get it all done. And this made me panic.

Until I realized that it's December 3rd. THIRD. Not twenty-third. This is actually the official start to the Christmas season. It's true. Think about it: When you were a little kid and read (or watched) aaaaaany story that concerned Christmas...did it take place in October or November? Nope. It was somewhere smackdab in the middle of December. (And generally somewhere smackdab in the middle of the Midwest. I don't know why these shows always concerned families residing in Indiana or Illinois, I just remember that they did. Maybe I'm thinking of John Hughes films.) 

Anyhow. I'm trying desperately hard to enjoy this season. We got our tree this weekend (at the traditional Home Depot tree lot) and as we pulled into the parking lot I had to reassure myself that there would still be "good" trees. On December 1st. (There were.) Nora was stoked beyond belief to choose a tree that "wasn't too thin." Susannah was rather confused but determined to enjoy herself. (And P.J. did that Guy Thing with the tree man where they spun the tree and banged the trunk officially.) 

That night, the girls were positively vibrating off the ground with tree ornament excitement. Zuzu's job was to walk across the room with larger ornaments, hide them under a shoe, squeal excitedly at them, and then fling them in the general direction of the tree. Nora's job was to carefully suspend nine ornaments on the same branch, roughly two inches from the floor. They did this for an hour and a half. And honestly? That was magical. 

Everything you need to know is
going down in this very pic.

The next day we went to the 10am mass, which was being said for my Dad. (Thanks, Kris!!) P.J. was actually the one who got to say the intentions for my Dad, which was rather special (even though, at the time, Nora was attempting to raise and lower the kneeler onto the pregnant lady next to us and Susannah was preoccupied with peeing through her outfit onto my shirt). But being there made me think of the Christmas stuff I treasured doing with my family growing up- and especially my Dad. Like getting the tree. Hanging the lights. Watching the favorite TV specials (over and over and over). Having him read The Night Before Christmas to the four of us girls. And then the four of us girls and the five grandkids. Having a cordial glass of peppermint schnapps on the rocks in front of the fire (which, as he's repeatedly told me, is the perfect Christmastime drink). 

I would so love to be sitting in front of the fire drinking something with him right now. I'm sure he'd dig that, too.

Because I am his favorite.

But for now, I'll try really hard to slow down and not feel the Christmas Panic every morning and night.  I bet a schnapps would help. 

Maybe just a [singular] schnapp.