Sneak attacks and the holidays
When my brother and I were young, we used to play a game that consisted of trying to sneak up on the other person and scare the pants off of them. This was a long-running pastime, and one that required us to regularly devise innovative places to hide and strategize timing so the opponent could be caught unawares by a surprise attack. By far, the best tactic was to lie in ambush behind an open door. Then, as the unsuspecting victim was entering and exiting a room, the perpetrator could pop out unexpectedly and achieve the ultimate goal of causing the sibling to scream. My brother was infuriatingly good at this. Why do I bring this up? Because I have come to feel that the holidays are a lot like my brother. I walk about the daily tasks of my life, and suddenly they jump out at me, seemingly out of nowhere.
“How did it get to be December?” I find myself asking. Every December. And while I grew up scanning doorways in anticipation of sneak attacks, I have, nevertheless, matured into someone easily waylaid by the holidays.
So, I recently decided to use the same methodology I employed in my youth to avoid being caught unawares. That is, taking a hard look at my surroundings, or, in this case, at the timeline that leaves me astonished every year by December’s stealthy approach. Thus, I have created a monthby-month view that I have titled, “The 12 Months of Christmas.”
January: Every January, freshly chastened by the frenzy of the prior month, I vow to be a better planner. Alas, in January, I am a masterful planner. The nights are long, I’m often stuck inside, so I find myself neatly penning in appointments on my new calendar. I also pledge to make Christmas shopping a year-round experience, hunting for gift items whenever I shop.
February: I keep to my pledge. When I see a good gift item on sale, I purchase it. I also spend time cleaning out my closet. Unfortunately, I inevitably find gifts I purchased last winter that I stowed away and forgot about. This is discouraging, but not insurmountable. I tell myself I just need to do a better job organizing my closet. I’m very patient with myself in February.
March: Here’s where I start slipping. I have five family members with birthdays in March. Any gifts I bought in February that are not buried beneath a pile of sweaters are given as birthday presents. Because, generally speaking, while planning for next Christmas I usually forget to plan for birthdays.
April & May: I’m going to lump these two together. I’m pretty certain my holiday shopping concerns have evaporated at this point.
June, July and August: It’s summer! Whenever I travel, I again take up the task of holiday shopping. Or at least I think about it. In beach-y gift shops and vacation town boutiques, I contemplate knickknacks, jewelry, scarves and mugs. Usually, these are more expensive than I can justify spending. And rightly so. If I buy someone a $30 ornament from Cape May, won’t I have to get them something else? I mean, won’t they assume it only cost $10? I don’t want to seem stingy.
September: Who wants to think of Christmas when the fall weather is so beautiful?
October: The stores have begun putting out holiday goods and displays. I scoff at them.
November: Thanksgiving. That’s all I’m going to say.
December: December already?!! How did it get to be December? Didn’t I buy gifts back in February? Where are they? And where’s that $20 bar of balsam soap I bought in the Adirondacks? Oh no, it’s dented!