Katie Katie Parsons is the creator of Mumbling Mommy and is a freelance writer, editor and communications specialist. She works from her home office on the east coast of Florida. Most often she writes about life in a combined family of five children and what it's like being a full time work-from-home parent. Feel free to pitch guest post ideas or just drop her a line at katie@mumblingmommy.com.

This is the time of year when I always start to feel a little bit inadequate. While friends, family, neighbors, co-workers and just about every stranger on the planet are baking sugar cookies and hanging Christmas lights, I am doing… well, nothing.

Nothing specifically holiday related, at least. I had a conversation with my roommate today that went like this:

Me: So, we should probably hang up a few decorations or something, right?
Her: Yeah, the garage is full of them.
Me: But then we would have to take them all back down…
Her: And the kids are too little to notice anyway…
Me: Plus, we are going other places to celebrate…
Her: Too much work. I say we skip it.
Me: I was hoping you would say that.

And what’s troubling is that I was actually relieved. One less thing to do, I thought… The Savior is coming to save the world from its sins, and I can’t even hang a string of white lights.

Talking to Emilia’s paternal grandmother (who will hence be called Denise, which is less robotic), I explained my lack of Grizwald enthusiasm, hoping for some reassurance.

Denise: (sigh) I used to feel the same way. You can probably get away with it this year, but get prepared to deck out a tree, buy every holiday magazine and hit Toys R Us on the day after Thanksgiving starting next year.

Gee, thanks.

But I’m not a complete humbug…

I went to CVS.com, uploaded a picture and voila — our Christmas card!

I made a special myspace Christmas playlist.

I own a red sweater. And Denise let me borrow a green one.

The revelation in all of this, of course, is that the true meaning of Christmas is something I keep with me all year long. I’m thankful everyday for my faith and say prayers the other eleven months.

Do I really need to hang a wreath on my door, and shape sugary dough into snowmen and Santas to prove this?

At this point, instead of tinseling a tree, I’d rather hold my daughter — who will undoubtedly be running around, refusing to cuddle next year. And let’s face it — making my home look like a page out of Good Housekeeping has never been my style.

But starting next year, maybe Emilia and I can learn together.

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Category: Christmas

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