What December Means to Me

December is my favorite month ever. Except maybe May 18. Which isn’t really a month, but could be celebrated all year long. Still, these are my favorite things about December. Mostly in chronological order.

Santa Baby

  • Jesus
  • Family
  • Advent calendars
  • Angels
  • Cinnamon
  • Elf
  • Cocoa
  • Michael Smith’s Christmastime CD (especially Emmanuel and Christmastime and…well…all the rest…which I play at least a dozen times a day for 25 days straight and that’s only a slight exaggeration)
  • Amahl and the Night Visitors
  • Colored LED lights on a really tall tree covered with years worth of collected Hallmark ornaments to commemorate every year, our wedding, every baby, every new home, everything we could think of
  • White LED lights on a not-quite-as-tall-but-just-as-majestic tree decorated with anything white, blue, or BYU (Utes may now commence the groveling)
  • Warm LED icicle lights on every possible architectural element outside (not the fake “white” ones that look blue, serious ick factor)
  • Christmas newsletters, maybe this year, maybe not
  • It’s a Wonderful Life
  • Miles of garland
  • Nativity scenes on every spare horizontal (and selected vertical) surfaces
  • Needlepoint stockings started by Grandma Moore
  • Wreaths
  • Candy canes
  • Every single Bass & Rankin Christmas show ever made (sing it with me: “I’m Mister Heat Blister…“)
  • First Presidency Christmas Devotional
  • Christmas dresses and outfits — particularly on the years when green is in fashion
  • Lights on Temple Square
  • Music & the Spoken Word with the MoTab mini-concert
  • Festival of Trees
  • Christmas story every night (all-time favorite book forever Jesus’ Christmas Party)
  • Christmasy devotionals every morning
  • Gingerbread houses
  • Salvation Army bell ringers
  • Gift lists
  • I Spy Christmas Lights
  • The Messiah, preferably in a sing-along
  • Tenor part of All We Like Sheep
  • Caroling
  • Sledding
  • Horse-drawn sleigh rides
  • Sub for Santa
  • Hot cocoa
  • Christmas cookies
  • French toast Christmas trees
  • a. billion. presents. under. the. tree. until. it’s. utterly. embarrassing
  • Shepherd’s feast
  • Mr. Krueger’s Christmas
  • Nativity reenactment
  • Cookies for Santa
  • Eggnog
  • Red ribbon forcing children to remain upstairs
  • Sweet roll wreath
  • Did I mention cocoa
  • Shish kabobs on the BBQ (no matter the weather)
  • New Years Eve games
  • Sardines
  • Pickled herring
  • Cheese and crackers
  • Fondue
  • Banging pots and pans and anything loud and noisy and obnoxious on the front porch at midnight (which would technically be January, but whatever)

Add your own!

30 comments for “What December Means to Me

  1. Colored LED lights on a really tall tree covered with years worth of collected Hallmark ornaments to commemorate every year, our wedding, every baby, every new home, everything we could think of

    This is what I am thankful for tonight (well, it’s only a 6 foot tree with white lights, but it has Hallmark ornaments starting from when I was 16). My family all decorates the tree, and then after the kids go to bed, I rearrange the ornaments into groupings: my teen years (cheerleading, Tinkerbell), my college years (all things cowboy), my marriage, anniversaries, new home, etc., graduation ornaments, DH’s scouting and fox ornaments (inside joke), and then the ones for when I was pregnant, had a new baby. Each child has their own set to commemorate their lives. It’s about time I got them their own little trees so they stop taking up all the room on mine. :) This tree with ornaments is one of my joys in life.

    DH had the idea to wrap the two trees in the front with white lights to trace the branches like they do at temple square. It turned out nice.

    One of these years I want to have a cookie exchange party with my friends. But, I don’t think this year will be it.

    Oh, and Victorian Christmas candles from Salt City Candle Company. Those are my favorite.

    Oh, and the annual ornament exchange party with couples. I never laugh so hard as I do on that night.

    I also love making our photo Christmas cards. I think it is fun to find the perfect design to go with the photos.

    Gifts are my least favorite part of Christmas.

  2. Honestly, I’ll be candid. I have a hard time with this list because it costs a lot of money to have a Christmas like that (the lights, Christmas clothes, a billion presents). I suppose I even recoil a bit at the thought.

  3. Mistletoe! And Mom catching the too-cool 12-year-old boy and giving him a kiss as he grimaces and tries to look away and ignore it.

    And definitely fondue.

  4. I like this one:

    White LED lights on a not-quite-as-tall-but-just-as-majestic tree decorated with anything white, blue, or BYU (Utes may now commence the groveling)

  5. I most enjoy going to a tree farm to pick and cut a nice real tree, being with family, and Christmas hymns. Two years ago, my home ward choir’s Christmas program was amazing – close to the strongest I’ve ever felt the Spirit.

  6. Ardis, it’s more or less how things occur in our house each year. Chronolgicalish — although it could use some tweaking if it was important enough.

    Stephanie, you are a kindred spirit. Come move next door and we can rejoice together. I started collecting Hallmark’s in high school when my then-boyfriendish guy’s mom gave me one for Christmas. Then gave me one the next year. In my house, when you do something twice, it’s a tradition and must be continued for eternity.

    Honestly, I’ll be candid. I have a hard time with this list because it costs a lot of money to have a Christmas like that (the lights, Christmas clothes, a billion presents). I suppose I even recoil a bit at the thought.

    Oh, Stephanie (2)! You are sooooooo misguided! :) I’ve been doing this stuff since we were ramen-eating, below-poverty-level, not-on-any-assistance, college students with two kids.

    Who buys lights every year? One string of LEDs costs about $12 and lasts for a billion years (or more, if I believe the box). Christmas clothes CAN cost a lot, if you let it. But I don’t. Even with six kids, you can be really frugal with clothes. Kids pretty much need clothes anyway, no reason one of those yearly church outfits can’t be in Christmas colors. :)

    Even the ornaments — which are pricey — were purchased sometimes only one or two per year. Back in the day we usually got them at the BYU Bookstore 20% off sale or AFTER Christmas when they were being dumped. I have a slew of ornaments now that I got for $1.00-1.50, and still have a favorite eBay Hallmark seller who regularly offers such deals.

    I LOVE lots of presents under the tree. But many were (and still are) homemade. Many were tiny little things. Sometimes one present which had parts was wrapped into separate boxes. I was an expert at double-couponing and rebating and one Christmas almost every single thing under out tree was totally free — except for the time and effort I spend obtaining them. (FWIW, I also MADE MONEY purchasing most of our non-food items (like personal and home cleaning supplies) in college, but that’s another post for another site.) Years ago we even stopped having every kid give to every other kid. Now they rotate who they give to.

    Some years we do go overboard, some years we don’t. But it always LOOKS like we do by Christmas Eve. But it’s fun for us.

    Kaimi, how could I forget mistletoe? If you ask my kids, it’s probably because my husband and I already make out way too much and don’t need more encouragement.

    H. Ross, woot! Cameron, good ones!

    Oh, John. I beg to differ. Listen to your own link! :)

  7. Another great Jimmy Stewart Christmas flick that should be added to the December chaos is “Shop Around the Corner.”

  8. My very favorite are your first two list items. Everything else we do at Christmas- the lights, the sounds, the gifts the giving, the baking and and singing all are there to remind me of those first two crucial items. Christ and Family.

  9. Wow – is that what Christmas is like on the Wasatch front? Here in the eastern hinterlands it is much quieter. Perhaps we don’t have the generations of member relatives nearby or the large families to celebrate with. I do know that in my ward there are a number of single moms struggling simply to heat the house, (our bishop will make anonymous food basket deliveries to them) a number of single women many of whom will spend the day alone or choose to work so as to not feel lonely and at least one new widow who just lost a husband and has no ability to contemplate such relentless cheer much less celebrate a holiday after such a loss. The remainder of our mostly convert ward will have the biggest part of the holiday trying to make a balance between their own needs and wants as members to not violate the WOW and still keep family nonmembers happy and also to continue pray that our major employer in town that is threatening to close their factory will change their mind and not throw the whole town out of work.

  10. Lachlan, I so anticipated such a response! I’m psychic!

    What does this have to do with the Wasatch front? It’s pretty much identical to what we did in Florida (when we had no family at all nearby and had two to four kids, depending on the year), except we watched the Christmas boat parade (free!) instead of visiting Temple Square (also free!).

    More to the point, I suppose, what is it I’m supposed to feel guilty about? Putting cinnamon in a pot to boil to make the house smell good (when my pioneer ancestors could never afford cinnamon!) or watching the scratchy old VHS of Amahl that we recorded off the TV ages ago (when single mothers on the east coast certainly don’t even have a TV!).

    Oh, wait, maybe it’s the $3 nativity set from Oriental Trading that has every single piece wrapped in a separate piece of paper just because my 5-year-old thought it was fun.

    On the other hand, it’s good to know that you gave up your frivolous computer and internet access so that the downtrodden in your ward could eat and heat their homes. We’ll miss hearing from you!

  11. No – I didn’t give up my computer – I just lost my husband to cancer. I’m that widow I wrote of. I think what those of us at the outer edges find difficult is the insular superiority of the isn’t life just peachy keen that we see and hear from members there in the Wasatch front (and even for that matter from general authorities there) that for us struggling in an area where our choices of joining the church makes a life that would be easier had we not made those choices seem little and dim and inferior becasue we can’t make the 2 beautiful trees and we don’t have the many children or relatives to have over for a cocoa and cinnamon laden evening of singing and making merry.

    Instead – we simply hope that we make it through Christmas without giving up and we spend a lot of time smiling to each other and lying that everything is lovely becasue we are given the example of the perfect LDS families that we are supposed to be like and that (I strongly suspect even in the Wasatch front) aren’t all that easy to find in real life but heaven forbid we should not all claim to be just fine thank you! Even if we are not!

  12. Lachlan, I’m sorry you lost your husband. Not knowing you, this post isn’t probably going to SOUND sympathetic, because I don’t think that fact changes the situation, even though it’s really sad and difficult. But I am sorry for your pain.

    Why are you “at the outer edges”? My dad is a widower. My sister’s twin girls died. One of my best friends in Florida lost her husband to brain cancer when he was 38. One of my dear friends just buried her 18-year-old son last week. Are they all on the “outer edges”? I don’t know. I don’t really know what you mean by that, but I know all of them celebrate Christmas and enjoy life, even though some things in their lives are really awful.

    I’ve had really bad stuff happen to me, too. Some of it I write about, most of it I don’t. But that doesn’t keep me from celebrating Christmas. And, honestly, I don’t see the connection. I lost five babies trying to have my six kids and, honestly, I didn’t get crazy when people had baby showers and healthy babies. BECAUSE I think it’s a choice to separate my personal pain from the rest of the world and the beautiful things in it. Babies are wonderful and amazing blessings — even if I can’t have any. (I learned a lesson from Elder Holland about that one General Conference.)

    As for the Wasatch front stuff, I still don’t get it. Because I now live in Utah, I’m not supposed to enjoy Christmas because it makes people feel bad? I’m not supposed to write a POSITIVE post about Christmas because there is hardship in the world?

    How would my two trees — which FYI I don’t even HAVE yet, I just have a DREAM of having them (along with a handful of blue/white ornaments I bought at Walmart’s after Christmas sale last year) — make your life more difficult or less significant? Heck, *I* “can’t make the 2 beautiful trees” yet either. So what? I still think they sound beautiful.

    And I don’t have the “warm” LED icicle lights. I just saw them in an advertisement and love how they mix my aesthetics with my husband’s engineering.

    And we only get to go to the Christmas Devotional if we happen to get the (free!) tickets in the lottery — which becomes harder every year.

    And my mom only got TWO of my kids’ needlepoint stockings done before the arthritis made it impossible to do. But it was such a loving gesture anyway. And every time I open that box I think of her love for them.

    And even though it’s December 1st, we didn’t do either our morning devotional OR our evening story today. Because Alana had to be at school really early for some student government thingy and the Christmas books are all packed in the storage unit because we are renting a house much too small for us this year.

    And the last time I did a Christmas newsletter OR card was the year Caleb was born — and he just turned six.

    And I haven’t been on a horse-drawn sleigh ride since my dad took all of us to Park City over a decade ago. But it was amazing and snow always reminds me of that day. He was so excited.

    And I love the lights on Temple Square even though mine will never be as nice. And I love the Mormon Tab singing Hallelujah Chorus, even though I don’t sound that good.

    And most years I had a toddler who whined about the green sprinkles on the French toast trees. And once my teenager said she was sick of hearing “Emmanuel” and it gave her a headache.

    And I would have put skiing, except that I am such a rotten skier (probably because, even living in UTAH, I’ve only been about six times in my life because it’s such an expensive hobby) that I couldn’t think of anything positive to say about trying to ski except that taking off the boots is a good thing.

    But I do actually buy candy canes (and oranges!) every year. And I do own the Michael Smith CD. And on Christmas Eve morning, I really do make french toast for breakfast and set it on the plates to look like a Christmas tree. I confess. I am ready for my penance.

    So should I have written a post, instead, titled, “Why December Stinks On Ice”?

    Here’s the thing. Go get a pan and put in a cinnamon stick and some water. Boil it and then walk around the house with the pan. Warm up some milk and put it in a mug. Sit down in your cinnamon laden room and sing a Christmas carol. A happy one. Then read the book of Luke. Yes, I have done this. Alone. With no money. And with powdered milk. And it still made my happier than I was before. Except for maybe the powdered milk part.

    Its not about being perfect. It’s about choosing to be happy even when we aren’t perfect and when our situations are perfect. Or at least being able to see some of the blessing around us. They really are there.

    I love December. Even when my life is really hard. To me, it’s better than having my life be really hard and have it NOT be December –when there are so many sacred, joyous things all around.

  13. – Making Christmas candy
    – Watching the kids sing along to “Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas” (I deserve to deal with this as I made my own parents listen to it relentlessly)
    – 12 days of Christmas (secretly to another family in the area)
    – Handel’s Messiah.

    Thanks for the fun post!

  14. Catania, great list! My mom used to make fudge every year and I have TWO friends who make the most amazing English toffee — which is HORRIBLE for me, since I will, literally, hide it in my drawer and keep it all for myself. OK, I share some with Sam. Maybe.

    I’m not remotely adept at candy-making, but I look for friends who are. :)

    You go, benji! My favorite sparklies were always the old-fashioned icicles. But my mom didn’t like them because you could never get them off the tree. Still, what’s more fun than throwing sparkly stuff around? (Unless it’s eating the English toffee all by yourself…)

  15. Alison, I’m sympathetic to Lachlan on this one.

    I’m not a Puritan about Christmas, and I’m generally skeptical of anti-consumerist rhetoric. Those of you who love to deck the halls and sing the songs and watch the movies and make the presents, by all means, let you be merry, I say.

    But I wonder if there aren’t some temperamental differences here that it’s important to respect. Personally, I found your list overwhelming. I would never do Christmas on such a scale; it wouldn’t be fun or meaningful to me. I’ve had a couple of very hard years in which I’ve found Christmas unendurable. The decorations and lights and presents and the obligation to feel good cheer made things worse.

    It’s great that you find comfort in the trappings of the season when you are suffering–in making your house smell of cinnamon and in Christmas carols–but not all of us do.

    Christmas isn’t a moral obligation. There’s not a thing wrong with skipping it altogether. But mourning with those that mourn is.

  16. ZDEve, I agree. And anyone is free to celebrate (or not) as they see fit. It’s not the mourning that I have problem with. It’s using what is simply a light-hearted “here are all the things I can think of that I have ever loved about the holiday season” post to put down Utahns or to try to make some kind of statement about the inappropriateness of people having fun when other people are struggling. (Which, of course, means we can never have fun at all. Ever.)

    If I came to your daughter’s wedding, would that be a great time for me to stand on the table and tell all your guests about all the people I know who have been divorced or cheated on or who never got the chance to marry at all?

    Can’t we have fun for just a minute?

    (And, golly, if I haven’t already been clear, *I* never do Christmas on “such a scale” either. But if I did — and I enjoyed every minute — couldn’t you be happy for me? Even if you thought I was nuts?)

  17. Alison, I think I read Lachlan quite differently than you do. She sounds discouraged by an image of Christmas cheer that diverges so drastically from her particular circumstances, lonely and sad, and pressured to pretend she’s not. I don’t follow where you’re getting the claims that it’s inappropriate to have fun at Christmas or that you should have written a different blog post entirely.

    Can’t we have fun for just a minute?

    (And, golly, if I haven’t already been clear, *I* never do Christmas on “such a scale” either. But if I did — and I enjoyed every minute — couldn’t you be happy for me? Even if you thought I was nuts?

    Sure! As it happens I’m related to an entire clan of Christmas nuts who often start planning in October. I missed that particular gene, it seems, but I just smile and enjoy their joy. By all means, let’s have fun.

    But wouldn’t it be sadly ironic if in our Christmas fun we neglected to follow Christ? When Lachlan shows up and says she’s suffering, can’t we extend some compassion rather than telling her about a stream of others who’ve suffered and who still manage to celebrate Christmas and enjoy life, as if it’s some sort of moral achievement to do so? That seems quite likely to increase burdens and wounds by suggesting there’s something wrong with her.

    Compassion and mercy and grace needn’t compromise fun. They’re actually the best part of fun, as we’re repeatedly told, and I wholeheartedly believe. ‘Tis more blessed to give, the reason for the season, and all that.

  18. I don’t follow where you’re getting the claims that it’s inappropriate to have fun at Christmas or that you should have written a different blog post entirely.

    Maybe it’s the whole assumption that there ARE “outer edges” in anything I wrote. Maybe it was the immediate comparison to “the Wasatch front,” although I have no idea what that has to do with anything. (No one in the east celebrates Christmas?) Maybe it was the implication that everyone out here has “generations of member relatives” and that, somehow, that is the only way to enjoy Christmas. (Only members celebrate Christmas?) Or the statement that “large families” are what makes Christmas bearable. (Small families don’t celebrate?)

    Or that I presented some kind of “peachy keen life” instead of just a list of things I like– or that if I *had* presented a peachy keen life that would create an air of superiority that isn’t considerate of those who struggle. What? I like cocoa and cinnamon and so I’m leaving you out?

    Maybe it’s the assumption that just because something makes me happy (even if it costs NOTHING and even if I DON’T HAVE IT) it’s somehow hurtful or exclusionary or unchristlike or unthoughtful to mention it because — Wow, people not on the Wasatch front don’t do THAT kind of stuff. (Really?)

    When Lachlan shows up and says she’s suffering, can’t we extend some compassion rather than telling her about a stream of others who’ve suffered and who still manage to celebrate Christmas and enjoy life, as if it’s some sort of moral achievement to do so? That seems quite likely to increase burdens and wounds by suggesting there’s something wrong with her.

    Isn’t there room for compassion expressed in different ways? Do you think that, at least once in a while, showing people an out or a reprieve from their pain — or a choice that might not be so painful — could be called compassionate? Don’t you think SOME people might be served by that kind of compassion?

    I do. I know people like that. Because *I* am like that. I got out of my depression and despondency after my second miscarriage because Elder Holland told me (you didn’t know that talk was just for me?) to “stop wallowing in the hot tubs of self pity.” Some of us are just stupid that way. I don’t know Lachlan, but I can only give her the compassion that occurs to me.

    If you feel a different kind of compassion, please offer it! But does it require mine to be inherently wrong?

    I’d like to present a scenario. One that happens to be true.

    There has been something my family has struggled with. It’s been very difficult and trying, more trying than anything I ever imagined enduring — and completely outside of our control as we had nothing to do with creating the situation.

    It happens to be that December is, historically, a really joyous time for me with many very happy memories. When the idea of writing a Christmas-themed post was given to me, I saw this as a way to take all those joyful things, from every year I could remember, and all the things I dream about for the future, and just throw them into a happy list. This seemed like a way for my family to set aside some of the difficulty and just enjoy the season, just to be happy, just to serve others, just to get lost in good feelings.

    I wrote and rewrote it, trying to make sure there was no implication that anyone had to do any of them or that they “should” do them. All I said was “these are my favorite things” and “add your own.”

    So, when I’m trying to be happy and bring happiness can’t you extend a little compassion? Do I have to blog out my personal pain to earn that? Could it be that telling me that I’m not being compassionate and christlike — because I want to focus on goodness and happiness and, yes, even counter sadness with positive examples of happiness and goodwill from others in struggle — is, how did you say it, increasing my burdens and wounds by suggesting there is something wrong with me?

    Seems to me principles shouldn’t be one-sided.

  19. Alison, this discussion has gotten considerably stickier and more protracted than I’m comfortable with; I don’t want to get further bogged down in accusations and counter-accusations about who said what to whom with what intent, especially since that sort of back-and-forth detracts from the Christmas spirit of your OP.

    We clearly have some temperamental and philosophical differences about how best to celebrate Christmas and mourn and console the grieving. Maybe at some point in some other forum we’ll discuss those difference in greater depth. The only reason I got involved in this particular conversation was a concern that Lachlan might have felt somewhat dismissed by your reply to her.

    I’m sorry to hear it’s been a rough year in your family. I’m glad to hear you find such solace in Christmas.

    Peace out.

  20. “Here’s the thing. Go get a pan and put in a cinnamon stick and some water. Boil it and then walk around the house with the pan. Warm up some milk and put it in a mug. Sit down in your cinnamon laden room and sing a Christmas carol. A happy one. Then read the book of Luke. Yes, I have done this. Alone. With no money. And with powdered milk. And it still made my happier than I was before. Except for maybe the powdered milk part.”

    I liked this Alison. It’s very to the point. It shows the way out. It’s like Charlie Brown’s Christmas. Occasionally I’ve been known to get depressed at Christmas, even when my kids were small and all here with me and family all around and on the wasatch front. If I had your quote above and had my own quiet devotional, I know my depression would have disappeared.
    We celebrate with what we have. The celebration comes from the heart no matter what it’s material manifestations are on the outside.

  21. Peace to you, too, ZD Eve. And it’s not a rough year. It’s a rough nine years :), but there are always good things in life and December is a time of celebration to us! :) 2010 will be a wondrous year!

    But I do want to clarify, I don’t think I even HAVE a philosophy of “how best to celebrate Christmas.” My post was “What December Means to Me” and simply listed everything that came to mind when I thought of December and the Christmas season. Things that make me happy; things that are fun; things that are exciting. I don’t do them all and I certainly didn’t suggest that anyone else do them all… or any at all. And I certainly don’t think my way is “best” for anyone but me. It’s just a list of stuff that makes me happy about December.

    To me the reaction is a bit like the Mother’s Day thing. I don’t get the craziness about it. It’s just a day. Some people like to celebrate it. I only celebrated Boxing Day and Guy Fawkes Day when I lived in England, but I still think it’s cool that other people do. :)

    Ooo, Darcee, I really like the way you said that. Celebrating doesn’t take away difficulty and pain, but I think we can always make the best (or worst) of whatever crappy stuff happens. In general, doing positive stuff will tend to make bad situations better and wallowing in bad situations will make them worse. And I’m a total cry-baby and whiner. I just try hard to kick myself back up after I’ve had a good, hard catharsis. So, when I think of being sad, depressed, lonely — I try to think of the most likely way to get away from those feelings, because I don’t like them!

    jennycheri, do you know I’ve never actually seen that movie in its entirety? Lame! I must do that — some year!

  22. Hey, got a shout out from MormonTimes today. Emily Jensen from the Bloggernacle Back Bench linked to this article and left some kind words:

    And I loved the list of Christmas moments outlined in this blogger’s explanation of “What December Means to Me.” She includes cocoa, the MoTab mini-concert, French toast Christmas trees, and many more.

    She also lined to Rory’s post: Confessions of a Shopping Mall Santa.

    Thanks, Emily!

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