My mom hates Christmas. She doesn't like shopping, can't stand crowds, and is generally rather Scrooge like every December. Unfortunately her attitude tends to rub off on me. This year it was really hard for me to get into the spirit of things. Money has been tight and for the last few years it seams like the quantity and quality (money) of the gifts you buy for people is more important then anything else. The holidays have become a ritual of greed in which, as the only female in my family, I am expected to lead. It is up to me to buy the gifts we send out, decorate the house, prepare the holiday foods, and keep tabs on the emotional well being of our extended network of friends and family. Granted all these jobs are somewhat self appointed but the social pressure to conform and take on these tasks is enormous.
It was with these things in mind that I headed out to do the last of my Christmas buying last weekend. Needless to say nothing much was accomplished. When I came home I saw that the BF had hung up Christmas lights around the exterior of the house. I love Christmas lights. They are my favorite part of the holidays. The Frex never saw the point of putting up lights. To him it was just an additional expense and another chore he didn't want to do. The last Christmas we were together he did put up lights but it was to compete with the neighbors, not to make me happy. So anyways, I was crying by the time I pulled into the driveway. Lights, red and blue, strung along the edges of the roof, the tree glowing through the window. My family safe and warm inside. I Love Christmas.
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