I’m going to start this off with my usual holiday disclaimer: If you do not celebrate the holiday commonly known as “Christmas,” just pretend I’m offering you an extremely well-researched and articulate observation on the mind of a Christian-raised Midwesterner, and please don’t assume that I assume you celebrate it, too. I do not assume so. That said ...

Raise your hand if you’ve ever gotten totally stressed out over something as stupidly simple as Christmas decorations. I’m not talking to all you people with 25 holiday-themed inflatable lawn ornaments surrounding your house. You have your own set of problems. (And you’ve probably had all your decorations up since September.) I’m talking to all you people with one or two bins full of Christmas decorations stuffed into a dark corner of the basement, just yearning to be freed from their Rubbermaid prisons and bring joy to the world around them. Those bins just sit there. Untouched. Unloved. Sad and alone while you put off your holiday preparations.

People with your hands raised – I am one of you. What is it about Christmas that brings out enhances the procrastinator in me?

Not getting a tree means you go to hell – a special kind of hell for parents where you must listen to an electronic, Fisher-Price version of Mary Had a Little Lamb on really crappy speakers. On repeat. Forever.

I remember one year when my wife and I had a fresh Christmas tree all set up in our living room and it just never got decorated. I have no idea what we were doing with our time (besides drinking). Anyway, we just left it up, and during our big New Years party, we just decorated it with party hats and stuff. So there’s a little Martha Stewart-style decorating tip for all you procrastinators out there – just go ahead and do things half-assed. It might come in handy at a party.

There may have been a year or two when my wife and I just never bothered to get a tree at all, but I can’t recall (maybe because of all the drinking). I’m sure many of you younger Christmas-celebrating couples out there have done (or will be doing) the same thing at some point. Don’t feel so bad. It happens.

Of course, If you’ve got kids, not getting a Christmas tree is simply not a viable option. Maybe you don’t have time to go get a tree. Maybe you simply can’t afford a tree. Well, that’s too bad because not getting a tree means you go to hell – a special kind of hell for parents where you must listen to an electronic, Fisher-Price version of Mary Had a Little Lamb on really crappy speakers. On repeat. Forever. While a 3-year-old kid asks you Why does Mary have a little lamb? On repeat. Forever.

 

Here comes Santa Claus.

My problem with Christmas decorations is that I’ve had a number of household chores on hold for, you know, years. And Christmas is just a big, fat, jolly reminder (in a red snow suit) that these things are not finished. So I feel bad and I feel the need to finish them before I can start stringing popcorn. But once the enormity of all these unfinished tasks has snowballed in a giant, um, snowball of disgruntled guilt, I feel about as festive as a frozen dog turd. So instead of busting out the garland (the tinsel kind, not the Judy kind), I pretty much stare off into space for awhile before finding some reason to check my email.

But kids make it hard to ignore Christmas. They’re like giant jingle bells flashing green and red, singing holiday favorites, constantly reminding me what a jerk I am if I don’t bust out the giant box o’ Christmas today. It’s easy to postpone your own holiday joy. It’s criminal to postpone your kids’ (in most states).

Of course, my wife doesn’t struggle with the same hesitations I do. Sure, she’d rather start baking snicker doodles in a clean kitchen with a sink that doesn’t drip because her husband actually fixed it (like he said he would), but she’ll still dive right in. And at the end of day ... cookies. For me this a reminder to just forget about whatever stupid roadblock seems to be, um, blocking my road. It’s also a good because I get cookies.

So a few weeks ago, while I still had many chores scrawled on a to-do list, I just set it aside to go get a tree. And it was fun. And Christmassy. And my daughter was beside herself, lost in a sugary sea of holiday glee. Of course, the real challenge was not blowing off organizing the upstairs to go do something fun (that’s kind of the easy part). The hard part was setting aside the guilt and just being there in the moment with my kids instead of thinking about housework. I can’t say I completely pulled it off, but I did OK. And at the end of the day ... happy kids and a pretty Christmas tree.

And I’m not going to worry about the 15 pounds of pine needles scattered around the house until January.