When it comes to Christmas in this household, I am the last one to get excited, the last one to want to put up the tree, and the least likely to go overboard on decorations. I refuse to play the sounds of the season on repeat; chocolate, shortbread, peppermint and and Nanaimo bars are the worst, and I’ve got no time for silly things like advent calendars, stockings, hot chocolate, or writing a blog beside a fire as a warm my thoughts and spirits beside…oh who am I kidding?  For each and every one of those things I am a sucker, and to speak otherwise or ill has surely put me at risk for making the naughty list.  No, the buildup to this weekend, for me, is palpable.  It has been this way for as long as I can remember, and it will, conceivably, never go away.  In fact, it will most likely only grow forever more at each new stage of my life, just as it did when I had children, and every year since then as they’ve grown older and become more aware of what’s going on around them.  This whole “Christmas thing” is both a blessing and a curse.  I am thankful for all of the feels, yet I know I will go overboard and my bank account will pay the price.  I am a sucker for the red, green and glittery, and, while I have not gone full Clark Griswold yet, my home is starting to look just a few stockings shy of a Netflix special.  Yes – I.  Love.  Christmas.

It starts around mid-November, and culminates on the final weekend of the month, when I am finally granted permission to bring the boxes up from the basement and commence Operation: Beandricks Christmas.  While I do my best to keep the anticipation and giddiness at bay, I’ve come to realize this year, that I may not have the poker face I have always given myself credit for.  Perhaps my family knows me better than I thought.  It could be that my affinity for Christmas is one I wear on my sleeve.  That realization came early this morning, when my daughters woke earlier than me – earlier than ever it felt – not because it’s Christmas morning, but because today is the day we get to put up the tree.  Yes, both children were brimming with glee, but where I thought my excitement was at a level 10, well – my youngest has cranked it up to at least a 13.

I had always hoped to inspire my kids to take in the magic of the season, but I never thought that I’d create a mini version of myself that would give me reason to pause and recognize how others (really, my wife), must perceive me.  Am I really that excited about bringing out the holiday blankets? Do I really own this many holiday-themed cookie cutters?  Do I really sound like that when talking about setting up the Christmas Lego display?  Have I always been this concerned with creating a list of all the Christmas movies we need to accomplish in the next 24 days?  I guess, in short, I am starting to question:  am I really that awesome?!?!

Yes, I do enjoy the season and, all jokes aside, I am not afraid to show it, nor am I afraid to share it.  If Audrey wants to match my excitement and ring our own doorbell every time we leave the house together to take out the garbage, or check on the chickens, or for no reason in particular, just so that we can sing carols when Alison opens the door, then I welcome those songs with open arms and an open heart.  If they both want to help decorate the sugar cookies (21 different shapes is their plan this year), then who am I to stop them?  If they both want to be a part of setting up their Mom’s advent mailbox each evening so that they can be a part of her morning surprise, then why on earth would I say no?  Their desire to participate in the pomp and circumstance of it all brings this Dad a lot of pride and joy for many reasons, though one stands out more than others – that the things they’re most interested in are those that provide something for others.  After all, the whole reason they want to make so many cookies is so they will have enough to deliver to all of our neighbours.

From blankets and Lego, to cookies and carols, this house is certainly filled with the senses of the season, though I will admit that this year, with a very heavy heart, I decided not to tackle outdoor decorations anymore.  A mix of harsh winds and elements constantly destroying anything I’ve put up in the past, the increasing hydro costs and the fact that no one drives down our street anyway, has driven the decision to put effort into the places and spaces inside our home, which is where we spend our time anyway.  Besides, the town has the whole ‘outdoor lights’ thing covered already.  If you haven’t taken a trip to downtown Elora at night in the past week, well, prepare yourself.  As this whole post has stated – I am a Christmas season fanatic, but even I know when things have gotten too excessive.  Between the over-abundance of blinding white lights, the facade of the new holiday market, the ridiculous prices for a hotel room, and the menu quality far below its price, this town has put an Instagram filter over itself to the point that it can longer recognize who it is.  The community of downtown Elora is one of the main reasons I love living here so much, but that has seemingly been taken over this season by a few deep-pocketed individuals and businesses who prefer influencer culture over identity, setting up a platform designed not to give back, but rather to take.  Let’s not forget, however, that even Scrooge McDuck was able to find his way back, so there is always hope!

From hanging our stockings to taking in the parade, this weekend has been filled with joy in our household. As the snow falls gently outside my window, and the thoughts of ice skating and hot chocolate fill my mind, I know there is even more to come.  I hope you will find the same.