This tale in my journal is already in an undefined hiatus but I would like to take a break to write about holidays since I have to put this stuff somewhere and... yeah.
So we begin: Neither of my parents are catholic but both grew up as such, and both, without knowing each other at the time, stopped being catholic the second they were too old to be dragged to church. So when I was eventually born and growing they had not planned to celebrate Christmas. But the three wise men and little dumb girl got in the way of that.
I was in kinder garden when it happened. A girl told me she was going to ask this and that from the Three Wise Men (some kids here ask from Santa, some from Baby Jesus, in Christmas or Christmas eve, and some from the Three Wise Men for January the 6th) so this little girl was very serious about asking toys to strangers she had never even seen before. I was outraged. I wondered where her parents were. Why didn't they realize she was believing in imaginary characters! Needless to say for me Santa and the Wise Men were just mascots of the season. So I went home and told my mom how impressed I was with this behavior and she epically mistook my words, understanding that I was crazy about holidays and wanted a big Christmas. You hear what you want to hear, and my mom is a specialist in that field. So Christmas was scheduled. That one was good, in fact, it was a spontaneous, quick and close thing. I picked my gift myself and hugged the box with a "magic" dollie all the way home. The very day of the dinner. It was not a magic doll, and I found out it was just heat sensitive paint what they called magic. But it was good. Good toy, good food, good night. The next year, however, was stressful for me.
You see, my father has always thought that a present must be something that comes from the heart and not from a pre-set date. So, if he felt like it, any given day, he'd buy a present for me or my mom. He also used to give me presents when I got good grades (which was often) so I was used to this rules. The year I was in first grade of elementary this changed for Christmas and I was not told. I wanted with all my heart a nursery for my ponies and that was going to be achieved by getting good grades. I got them. I got no nursery. I started behaving. I got nothing. I stopped breaking china and home appliances, and still, nothing. I started to wonder what I was doing wrong. Or how high the standards were raised for elementary. Did I have to get a rocket to Mars to get that stupid plastic house for my stupid plastic ponies, damn it?
Seemed so. More than once I stopped at a toy store and pointed out LOUD AND CLEAR there was the toy I was lusting after so much. And all those times my mom came up with things like "I can't afford it right now" to which I replied "But you spent more than what it is worth buying this and that" even once we went to a store where the thing was on sale. I pointed out HOW MUCH she'd be saving, and she naturally said she didn't carry enough money. I knew it was a lie and I was angry, frustrated and stressed for not knowing why I was being lied to so blatantly.
Around December 23 or so I saw a big cubic box wrapped in neon colored paper with "cool" modern santas printed all over. I knew it was the nursery. I didn't want to open that box. I didn't want to get angry at my parents. Angrier, in fact, I was already very pissed for being lied to and finding out what was the deal: They wanted to play santa and they didn't ask me. I was not used to be treated like that. Well, I was in a very strange mood when Christmas Eve dinner came. Certainly my parents picked up. Normally our big celebration was new year and normally I was very cheery and talkative. So my mood on that night was so different they decided to let me skip the meal and open the present. I took out away the paper and I stood there. My mom was so amused at how surprised I was. I was not. I just did not know how to react. I had anger, frustration, sadness, fighting with the joy that I finally got the stupid toy. Childishness won and I played with it while my parents ate, then when they had a glass of wine, then when they talked and then I was took to bed, where I slept for around 14 hours.
So after that I concluded Christmas was a bunch of stress. Too much noise, not enough nuts and songs I didn't like. Why yes, a little Grinch girl was born that night. So the game was, form then on, to subtly hint my mom what I wanted from months before. And by subtly hint I mean SPECIFICALLY TELL WITH ALL POSSIBLE DETAILS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED FOR CHRISTMAS. Because my mom and subtlety tend to go together like sweaty nerds and preppy cheerleaders. Perhaps even worse.
There was no surprises for a couple more Christmas and I just stopped caring. Setting ornaments was as meaningful for me as putting a roll of toilet paper in place. Opening presets to find exactly what I was expecting was a bittersweet thing. More than all the super cool toys put together ever, I just wanted a surprise. I wanted my parents to try and guess, or find something I wouldn't have thought of but found appealing. I was at fault here too since I NEVER EVEN ONCE said I wanted a surprise. I wanted them to come up with the whole concept themselves and hated them for not reading my mind. I got some good toys along with the things I asked for, but still the stress was taking a toll on my mood and I was half cheery half grumpy on Christmas day. Though for new year I was still the life of the party. Since nobody expected presents, I guess.
Until I gave up completely. I didn't ask for anything anymore one year. And I got a couple of surprises. That was good. But Wise Men day was even better. It was a difficult year, not a lot of money and my mom wanted to get me some skates and a doll. She was hunting for very cheap presents and found some super sale of some Japanese spoof of Barbie... such a beautiful spoof, I may add, better proportions, sweeter face, real eyelashes, not a blond mane in sight! They could stand by themselves! My mom says that was insanely cheap, the store was going broke or something of that effect, so for the price of one original doll she got me six spoofs, ten outfits and tons of accessories such as water-skis, four post beds and umbrellas with a real mechanism that allowed them to stay open or closed. It blew my mind. Not only I had the surprise I was seeking all those years, it was not only the huge amount of presents I got, it was also my mom's teary joy, that she saved the holidays and she allowed me to taste a bit of the wonderful feelings she got from her Christmas and Wise Men day as a child. We stopped Christmas celebrations next year, for one reason or the other and I was just happy to have vacation without the drag of preparing a celebration I wasn't fond of.
For now, after so many years, Christmas means cooking with my family, sharing the food, goofing off for the kiddies, receiving gifts and apologies. Ever male knows what to get me and none of them can get that for me because their girlfriends and wives insist on getting me makeup and sweaters instead. Knowing I will not use them but hoping I will because I am too old to get Star Wars and Simpsons merchandise. And I am a woman. Their men can get away with kiddult toys but not me. It's okay. A gift and the intention are what I am grateful for now. I don't expect anything my way for the holidays, so whatever finds my way is a good thing.
But naturally I can never say Christmas has ever given me a warm fuzzy feeling of unexplained joy. Nor I say now that I hate or suffer it. I just live it.
