Antique Crazy, Sometimes Tart, Tuna

Christmas Dementia

Tomorrow, January 6th, is the Feast of the Epiphany. For Catholics, and perhaps other denominations as well, that is the official day to take down the tree. The link suggests that as a family, we take a leisurely day and take down the decorations and then sit around a lovely meal I prepared (What? When I wasn’t undecorating?) and talk about what we enjoyed most about the Christmas season. Yes, I will do that — just as soon as I get back to the mothership.

Anyway, yesterday I finished the 2-day long task of taking down my tree and decorations. By two days, I mean two toddler-days. You can arrive at this number by taking 16 waking hours and subtracting the amount of time you do not have a toddler attached to your mid-thigh which is roughly equivalent to 3 hours and 15 seconds — if you include naptime and the time he locked himself in the closet and I left him there, I mean played hide-and-seek with him.

Here are just some of this years holiday decorating stats:

Number of boxes hauled out of the attic: 37 and counting
Number of trips made up and down the stairs: 57
Number of times I said I will buy no more ornaments: 7
Number of new ornaments purchased: 9
Number of ornaments broken: 2
Number of decorations that escaped packing: 1 – so far.
Number hours spent decorating and un-decorating: Embarrassed to admit
Number of times I vowed to have a simple Christmas next year: 1.5xday/30 days = 45

In spite of these startling statistics, around mid-November, Christmas Dementia will set in again. I forget how much work it was to haul and install all the Christmas glory. Like an old boyfriend, I only remember the good times. I look forward to unwrapping each ornament and reminiscing about when we first met. The second hour of unwrapping and reminiscing, love turns to like. The third hour like turns to tolerate. Four hours and 15 trips up the stairs into the attic, I’m throwing ornaments on the tree from across the room, hoping that at least one will stick or better, meet it’s death. But as I stated in a previous post, all the holiday glitter and glam delights the little boy and makes it worth it the effort. For approximately 30 days.

Then, somewhere around December 26th, I have my own epiphany. The Christmas induced dementia disolves leaving me with a sparkly hangover. My 37 boxes of old friends suddenly seem too high-maintenance. I decide I need to set some boundaries with them. And their boundaries are in the attic. And this is when I firmly state, for the 46th time, that next year we will have a simple Christmas with only a few decorations.

Here’s one last statistic:

Number of days before Chrismas Dementia sets in: 313

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