12 Days of Christmas – #1 Elizabeth Ann West

WOOOOOOT! It’s here! It’s Christmas Eve! Yay!

Ok, we’ve had some brilliant stories and posts over these past 12 days. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed hosting them. Thank you to everyone who contributed.

I saved the last spot for someone special. Elizabeth is not only one of our brilliant authors over at MWiDP and our fabulous IT guru, but in 2012 we are going to be working on a couple of projects with her. She’s also pretty cool!

Here she is:

Christmas Under Pressure

This is my fifth attempt to write this blog post. I’ve followed the series and I’ve built up all of this pressure on myself to deliver. I’ve got THE Christmas Eve post. The last one…and I’m so afraid to disappoint.

Here’s the problem: I’m not IN to Christmas this year. In my country, the good old US of A, there are two extreme camps. One side looks at Christmas like a sport, with bargains hunted with such ferocity, don’t visit your neighborhood K-mart without pepper spray! On a completely opposite side of the spectrum, are the religious fanatics, who want to throw piety around like it’s 1692 and there’s some witches to burn. How many tiers did you make your birthday cake for Jesus?

This year, I did all of my shopping in one day. I bought a small gift for the in-laws and shipped it to them directly, as our recent move from SC to CT has put a damper on our Christmas fund. My children each had a limit placed on them, and I even traded in my hand held video game player for an extra boost so we could upgrade my stepson’s system.

My husband and I are not exchanging gifts this year, a first. And I don’t care. I’m not upset one bit. This year, my family worried about our future too, too much. My husband applied for an officer program in the Navy and if he didn’t get it, was getting out. He flew to job interviews in places that get eleven feet of snow per year. Let me say that again. Me, a girl raised in southeastern Virginia, where everything shuts down on a forecast of flurries, was going to move to a place where they get ELEVEN feet of snow!

And I would have gone. But thankfully, he made officer and we now live in Connecticut, where they average about twenty inches of snow per year. For the first two year though, it’s a slight pay cut (we’re making the same amount we made in SC, but there’s a high cost of living up here and we are renting out the house we own down south).

The bottom line is my family is healthy and happy. My marriage is in a less stressful season, despite living a little tighter to our budget. I couldn’t ask for more than that. Well I could, but I don’t want it. I’m looking forward to a new year writing another novel or two, and putting on a publisher hat once in awhile. I’m anxious for a brand new chance to make life special, whether it’s reaching out to a reader who wants to read my book but cannot because she is blind so I’m making her an audio book, or teaching my daughter how to spell her name.

This year, I just want a normal, quiet holiday. My family is finally together, without anymore Navy deployments. The lack of emotional drama is one of the best gifts I could ask from Santa Claus. And we’re building new family traditions, such as my parents visiting the weekend before Christmas. What about that extravagant Christmas dinner everyone puts on? The West family is making pizzas.

So Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.

If you haven’t seen Meet Me in St. Louis, give it a chance this holiday season. And I look forward to celebrating a new year full of new opportunities with all of you. Merry Christmas!

Thanks Elizabeth! And here’s to 2012!

So, that’s it. We’re done.

All that remains is to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a fantastic New Year. Here’s hoping that 2012 brings us all everything we could wish for and more.

Saffi

Related articles

• 12 days of Christmas – #11 Hollister Ann Grant (sapphicscribe.wordpress.com)

12 Days of Christmas – #2 Leonard Hilley

Squeeeee! Only two more sleeps!

And so, to Leonard:

Haunted by Santa Claus

Leonard Hilley II

The first Christmas I remember clearly was when I was two years old.  We lived in Alabama where Decembers were usually too warm for snow.  A knock came upon our front door.  My mother told me to look outside as she opened the door.  On the front porch was a small racecar track set on a piece of plywood.  She told me that Santa Claus had left it for me.

While I stared at it, not understanding whom Santa Claus was, my father snuck back through the house and showed up behind us.  He carefully picked up the board and car set and brought it into the house for us to play.  I didn’t know Santa, but it was neat that he dropped off the gift.  But, why didn’t he stick around?  What was the rush?

My mother explained that Santa had to deliver toys to all the kids in the world and just didn’t have time to meet everyone.

The mystery of Santa Claus worried me the following Christmas.  Songs of Christmas and Santa played on our record player.  Who was this Santa Claus and how did he always know what I was doing and whether I was naughty or nice?  This troubled me.  I thought only God had such power.

At a department store, my mother took me to see Santa.  He gave me a piece of candy that I didn’t like, so I tucked it inside my coat pocket.  When I got home, I took the plastic wrapper off the candy and tossed it in the toilet.  The second I did this; I suddenly remember that Santa had probably watched me do this.  I quickly tried to flush the candy, but it didn’t go down.  I lowered the lid and hurried to the living room.  Now I feared Santa wouldn’t give me any presents.  Why should he?  After all, I had thrown his candy away.

Christmas came and I got nice presents.  Had Santa missed me throwing away the candy?  Or, was it candy that he didn’t like, either?  It no longer mattered.  I had toys to occupy my time.

I don’t recall how young I was when I discovered that Santa didn’t really exist and that presents were placed under the tree by my parents.  Maybe when I entered preschool someone had told me.  But the leverage that you had to be good or you didn’t get presents from Santa no longer held validity.  So, my parents played another song a LOT before Christmas.  “I’m Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas.”  Not that I was a bad kid, but they still let me know that goodness earned presents and being bad had severe consequences.

Nowadays, it’s difficult to find kids that believe in Santa.  The hustle and bustle of Christmas and its commercialization has soured many people and children.  At family gatherings I have seen kids open presents and snub their noses at their gifts.  Parents run up huge Christmas tabs on their credit cards and have lost sight of what Christmas is truly about.  What happened to the days when gifts had more meaning than the cost?

Santa once haunted my youth, but seeing a traditional holiday mired by Black Friday and fist fights over gifts haunts me even more.  Give the greatest gifts ever—love, respect, and time.  Life is too short not to share these.

Leonard’s books can be found here:

Amazon page and links to books

Thanks, Leonard. I bet you’re hoping for a shiny new car from Santa eh? (judging by your author pic)

So, tomorrow is the big one! Yes, after those incredible countdown posts, it is finally Christmas Eve. It’s been fun (if not exhausting) and I hope you have enjoyed our very own take on advent here on SMoD&L. We have had an incredible year and if you missed the post explaining news of our deal the other day, then pop on over to my (new look) sister site and check it out. Finishing the countdown off tomorrow is the brilliant Elizabeth Ann West. Now where did I put the sellotape?

Saffi