Monday, October 11, 2010


I have attempted several times, and failed, to put exactly how excited I am for Christmas into words.

I want to try again because I'm getting so excited it's ridiculous! And I don't know what to do with myself seeing's not even Halloween yet. Ha. So I am getting it out here...BLOG form =)

A lot of people think it's weird that I love Christmas so much. Or they think it's because of the presents or something. But it really has nothing to do with the presents! Well maybe a little because I love getting gifts for people. How could you not? The thrill of the hunt to find that PERFECT gift and then you wrap it carefully making it all pretty and perfect. And then the look in their eyes as they pick it up, wondering what's inside. And last but not least, how happy they are because - it's not that it was the perfect gift and just what they wanted...but they know you spent the effort and time for them. It really shows you love them =)

But anyway, putting that whole exciting aspect of it aside. What about the magic that's in the air during Christmas time? Wait! What about the magic LEADING up to Christmas time? When you start needing to turn the AC off and the heater on. When the leaves not only start changing colors but falling off trees. When you realize you need to pack up your summer clothes and take out the sweaters and vests. When you wake up and it's still dark outside. And then slowly the days get more stormy until that eventful day when you wake up and there's that first fallen snow. And it's clean, and sparkling white! It's so exciting! You know that soon you'll be out looking for the perfect Christmas tree to cut down and take home with you and make apart of your Christmas.

I can remember EVERY single Christmas tree we had growing up! Because it's more than a pretty tree strung with lights and pretty decorations. In my family we had a tradition for hanging ornaments. Of course my brave older brothers got to be the ones to string the lights. They'd always put on these huge leather gloves to protect themselves from the poking needles. Even still they'd end up with little red marks all over their arms =) But anyway! When it came time to decorating the tree my Dad would hand them out one by one and we'd take turns deciding the perfect place for each ornament. Not only would us children get to hang the ornaments but as we did my Dad told us the meaning of the ornament and told it's Christmas story.

I had a game I made up when I was young and played with little sister Audry and my 2 younger brothers Stefen and Jesse. We'd pick a small toy, usually like a lego man or something...and we'd take turns hiding him in the Christmas tree. The rule was he had to be visible, even if it was a tiny speck of him. And then whoever found him first, they got to take their turn hiding him next. The goal was to make him unfindable =) It's sad though, as you get older or move out, I remember coming home to my parents and Stefen and Jesse would beg, "Please! Please play with us!" Haha. I'm pretty sure we've all out grown it seeing as it never takes long to find the toy, but we still play...just for old times sake.

We also had a Christmas video of all these old old cartoons from when even my oldest siblings were tiny...they were REALLY OLD cartoons, they don't make good quality cartoons like that now-days. It was a VHS and really bad quality, haha, but we'd put it on and watch them anyway. Now that DVD's have replaced everything we don't have that Christmas video anymore =( *sighs* But believe me, if you saw how awesome this Christmas VHS'd probably be as obsessed with Christmas as I am.

Welp, time to run! My family is coming over and we're going to party it up Allen style. I bought some egg nog for the occasion was sour. So now I have to go take it back to Smith's and throw it in the lady's face. Haha. No, just teasing. That's mean and not the Christmas spirit...which is what egg nog is all about! And if you don't like egg nog I don't want to hear about it. What you have to say is blasphemy as far as I'm concerned.

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