It's coming...

There's the faintest smell of Fall outside...
It's starting, and I'm just not ready yet.
I'm definitely looking forward to Beth's wedding this weekend.
And I'm also counting the days to the first ND game so I can visit with my MollDoll.

But...I am just not looking forward to the Holidays. They aren't that far away you know. 
The season is out there, hovering like an overprotective mother.
It scares me.

I'm not a Scrooge. I certainly don't hate the holidays.


What I have an issue with is the closeness of Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'm weary of the rush from turkey to tinsel. It makes me hyperventilate. 

Why can't we give thanks in September?
The last day of September works for me. And it's a Thursday!

I really do love the holidays. I love the autumn colors, the pumpkins, and the whole Pilgrim/Mayflower thing. I'm just tired of celebrating Thanksgiving while worrying if I have enough ornaments. I'm tired of spending the day after Thanksgiving furiously decorating my home with a stomach full of pumpkin pie. I don't like packing up my ceramic pilgrims, and turkey salt & pepper shakers so quickly. 

I really love to decorate. I just don't like doing it while knowing it's going to all come down the very next month. Yes, it has to come down before the New Year approaches. I can't help that quirk, and it's all my dear Mother's fault.

I spent many of my formative years watching my mother take down our aluminum Christmas tree (with the rotating, lighted color wheel) immediately after Christmas. Sometimes, immediately after Christmas dinner. I'd clear the table, walk back from the kitchen, and the tree had disappeared. She was that good.

On December 26th our house was always immaculate and void of anything Christmas. Even the best CSI agent wouldn't find a speck of Christmas evidence. My toys, piled neatly on our plastic covered sofa, were the only reminder that Christmas had even occurred.

I am not as bad as my Mama, but DNA cannot be denied. My home is always free of holiday decor by New Year's Eve. I admit, I am very uncomfortable when neighbors leave their tattered decorations out past Valentine's Day. And when I see an Easter bunny sharing porch space with a reindeer, I have difficulty breathing.




I would love to celebrate Thanksgiving on September 30th. How's that sound to you? I think it's a lovely idea. I think it's doable.


October will be full of Halloween, and Christmas would remain the same. {My Catholic roots wouldn't allow me to change Christmas}. We would have the entire month of November to slowly ease into Christmas. We could finish all our shopping, do some major baking, and slowly deck the halls with boughs of holly, or whatever else you deck with.

Who do I call?
Let's be honest, history isn't always correct. We really don't know the exact time those overdressed Plymouth colonists shared a meal with the Wampanoag Indians. Records show the year was 1621, I'll go along with that. But Colonists and Indians weren't exactly carrying their planners around. Couldn't it possibly have been September?

There wasn't any pumpkin pie, cranberries, or sweet potatoes. They ate seal and lobster along with fowl. That whole time seems very confusing to me. There's always been quite a bit of indecision about this holiday. George Washington declared November 26th as Thanksgiving Day. Abe Lincoln declared the last Thursday of November as Thanksgiving Day. No one could make up their minds!

It wasn't until 1941 that our Congress officially declared the 4th Thursday of November as Thanksgiving Day. Didn't we have more important things to deal with around that year?

I know it's futile.
The holidays will remain the same. 
I'll continue to race around like a mad woman. 
September will always encompass Labor Day, the start of school, and football season. We'll continue to celebrate Columbus Day and Halloween in October. Early November will once again find me tossing around a few gourds and my ceramic pilgrims. And Thanksgiving Day will always remain stressful as I eat too much, even though I know it will slow me down the next day.


And the day after Thanksgiving?
Please don't call me, just think of me.
I'll be battling the "Thanksgiving turkey sweats", slapping together three trees, climbing ladders, twisting my knees, and vowing to decorate less next year.

...and all of this for five short weeks of glory.


Thank You U.S. Congress of 1941.


{Next time ask a woman when you're trying to schedule another holiday}