Yes, it has begun. Christmas decorations went up on November 10 for purely logistical reasons. We spend Thanksgiving at our house and Christmas at my parents’. Since we’re here for Thanksgiving and not Christmas, I decided to optimize my Christmas decor a few days early. Any by a “few days” I mean two weeks.
Like any parent, I want to make the holidays perfect for my kid. The holidays should feel like a big bear hug from the universe telling you that we can all be happy and loving as a community at least once a year. It’s magical and you know it’s magical for more reasons than the fact that it’s J.C’s birthday.
I started scouring Targets, Ross’s and HomeGoods for the perfect snowman or the quaint reindeer that’ll sit next to the butter dish during Thanksgiving. I’m determined to construct the perfect atmosphere for Miles’ childhood memories. No detail is too small and every Santa Claus figure will be scrutinized.
I didn’t find anything. Sure, Target can curate the hell out of some chic Christmas decor but there was nothing I found that would sear into our memories 20 years from now. We’re building memories, not decorating a house!
Maybe I’m putting too much importance in building these memories? The things I remembered from my childhood weren’t activities that were sought out to be traditions, but things that we just did. And then I started to wonder if this is how those 90s moms I feared of becoming got their start. You know those moms who wear those hideous wire-framed glasses, the overproduced 90s hair, and the wretched appliqué vests of Santa and Rudolph flying in the night sky?
And then, in the middle of a Ross, I look over at the random array of knick-knacks and found a triceratops proudly perched at the top of the shelf.
I don’t know if it was the vapid rebellion of a millennial mom, the genuine interest of owning a triceratops figurine, or the desperate need of something festive to put on the little table upstairs, but I bought it. I bought it for $10.
To make it more, you know, Christmas-like, I’m painting it gold. Duh.