Holiday Traditions I Miss

Since becoming a mom, holidays have become...a chore.  It's true that Christmas is for kids.  But sometimes I wonder if I could turn the clock back again.

I used to celebrate Christmas the way it should be -- with a sense of profound and grateful joy, Christmas songs and goodwill to all mankind.

Holidays in my family started when my mom took out the Christmas decorations.  Decorating the tree was usually a family affair.  It'd always look the same, year after year, but it was a delight to see because of the old-fashioned wooden ornaments we placed on it.  Some were even handed down from my grandma, so not only did they have character but they also had stories to tell.

I don't remember my parents stressing themselves with a long Christmas list.  My brothers and I followed suit and kept our own shopping lists short as well.  Frugal me would make an effort to get really nice gifts only for my family and best friends (total of 6 people, I'm not kidding).  Everyone else gets a "batch" gift, usually baked goods like brownies or cake, which I myself made with love and care.

We didn't do Noche Buena the way most Pinoy families do.  Ours was often a simple evening spent relishing my mom's awesome home-cooked meals, and then we'd all kick back on the couch and watch a TV movie or play a board game till the clock struck 12.  When my bros and I were younger, our family would spend Dec. 24 joyriding around the Makati Business District, our eyes feasting on the spectacular light displays on the huge buildings and lampposts.  Sometimes my dad would drive all the way to Manila Hotel, and there the first hour of Christmas would find us, chowing down warm bibingka and puto bumbong.

We usually woke up in the mid-morning on Christmas Day.  It was gift-opening time!  I'd usually open thin, rectangular-shaped boxes with the telltale Rustan's logo on the gift wrapping paper (80s kids, you know what I mean) last, expecting to find another cutesy, girly shirt or bag in it.

Once though, my mom put one over me.  She had wrapped a certain gift in one of those boxes, knowing that I'd open it last.  When I finally tore the wrapping paper, saw the Rustan's logo on the box, stifled a sigh, then lifted the lid -- ready to feign delight with another shirt I will wear only once -- my fake smile suddenly turned into wide-eyed shock.  Inside were two books: John Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" and Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women".   They were gifts from my mom's Malaysian friend, Ling, who I had also grown close to at the time.  I remember thanking her for the books, but I don't remember telling her how much they mean to me.  Those two were the first books in my personal collection; they set me on the course to becoming a bibliophile.

For the rest of Dec. 25, we would usually be enjoying a kickass potluck feast (mainstays were the tropical punch with diced apple and lechon from Elar's) with my mom's side of the family at lunchtime, and then stuffing our faces with a smorgasbord of treats (that usually included some sort of creamy seafood salad) with my dad's side of the family at dinnertime.

Then, we went to sleep and woke up on Dec. 26, still feeling Christmas-y and not stressed out at all.  In fact, when I got to high school, the holidays only got better.  By then, I was allowed to sleep over at friends' houses or join our church's youth retreats up in the mountains, which were usually held during the last week of December.  Those were the days when Decembers in Antipolo or Baguio were effin' cold.

Fast-forward to the "Ber" months in 2002, the first holiday season I spent in the Philippines as a young mother.  I didn't know it yet then, but I had begun developing symptoms of "holiday-itis" (read "itis" like in "appendicitis" or "tonsillitis").

You have holiday-itis if:

• the countdown to Dec. 25 sets off a tiny panic alarm in your brain.
• Christmas/holiday shopping stresses you out to the point of Scrooge-ness.
• you have quipped "Bah, humbug!" at least once within the 2-month period leading up to Dec. 25.
• you wish you could skip or sleep through December and wake up when it's already January 1.
• your body clock goes haywire starting in November.  For some, it starts as early as October.
• your sinusitis becomes extra active and annoying during this season.
• you're getting sick at least once per week starting in mid-November. Nothing serious although cough, colds, body flu, and a bit of a fever do dampen the spirits further.
• you wish you were still a kid so you could just enjoy Christmas (and then end up blogging about it).
• you'd rather be somewhere else except where tradition tells you to be during the holidays.
• your body "gives out" a few hours after the clock rings in Christmas Day, so you then become seriously ill.
• you need to recover from holiday stress until the end of January.

It's no wonder that I feel excited about Christmas only on Dec. 24, because that means all the fuss is almost over.  It's tragic and very wrong.

If Christmas wishes could come true, I'd wish that:

• I could go back to not doing any Christmas shopping except only for my own family and best friends (total of 10).
• we could spend the holidays somewhere else, so that we could focus only on family bonding time and reflect on the essence of Christmas.  Even if "somewhere else" was just the inside of our car as we drove through the city, gazing at the Christmas lights.
• instead of spending so much money on gifts, I'd rather donate to a charity.
• I could have more time to do really meaningful activities during the holidays that truly celebrates the Reason for the season.

I want to not be sick during the holidays.  I want to be able to listen to Christmas songs again without muttering "Bah, humbug!".  These will only be possible if I'm not so stressed with unnecessary holiday busyness.

Bring back my holiday spirit to me, Lord.  Make it right once more.