Some years it’s harder to get into the Christmas spirit.
This is one of those years.
The Husband said once, when we drove past a yard sign imploring us to keep the Christ in Christmas, “Well, duh. If you take the “Christ” out of “Christmas,” all you’d have left is “mas.” And that would just be weird.”
This year that’s what it feels like. Like all I’ve got is “mas.”
It’s not that I just can’t be arsed with it. We’ve decorated. The tree is up. The Christmas music is playing. I’ve been baking. I’ve even wrapped a bunch of gifts.
But the intangible joy of the Christmas spirit is missing this year.
I can point to a shit ton of reasons. Over-the-top work stress. A 91-year-old mother-in-law who had a serious health setback and has been in rehab. Kids not home yet. The very real demise of our nation as we’ve come to know and love it.
It’s kind of a bummer.
On the other hand, I can enjoy the beautiful sights and sounds and scents of the season on evenings like this, when I put on my pj’s at 5:30 pm and had a quiet supper on my own (okay, to be truthful I often have my pj’s on by 5:30 this time of year.)
Maybe it’s best if I focus on enjoying what I can. I guess just “mas” is better than nothing.