Twenty-Something*Tumbleweed: Love-List: Peppermint Edition

How have I gotten halfway through December with only ONE measly "cookie recipe" post to represent my favorite season of the year?

"Son of a Nutcracker!" Buddy the Elf would surely be disappointed.

The thing is, despite my lack of entries, I have so many pictures and traditions to share -- probably so many that I don't know where to start.

To be quite honest, I went from "bitten by the holiday bug" (craving December traditions at every turn) to an actual BUG (thank you, Room 31) which put me in a bit of a "Bah Humbug" state for the past few days. (Is that enough renditions of the same pun in one sentence? Sorry, I had to.)

Tonight I had a meltdown over the right size stationary during couch-ridden-crafting. During my growling/moaning as I sped back to Michael's before they closed at 9:55, I noticed a homeless woman on the highway holding up a sign. Wow. I was instantly reminded that I'm lucky to have holiday crafts to give and a warm apartment with a sofa to sit on. Sorry, Scrooge. You're out.

So, in a spirit very similar to this post a few months back, I think I'm due for a Love-List.

Let's be real. I LOVE everything about December. :)

I can't stop rearranging our small collection of Christmas cards on the mantle to create a perfect balance of red and green fonts,
I am baking non-stop and whipping cream from scratch,
I DVR'd more than one version of "The Nutcracker Ballet" with Russian narration (that's correct, not in English) last week,
I skimmed through all 392 "Holiday"-genre labeled songs in my iTunes for my roommate in search for the perfect jam to accompany our "decorating party" (that's 21 hours of songs, people)....

the list goes on and on.

Some traditions are new, some traditions don't deserve that title whatsoever, as they are "Dallas December firsts."

And I have a special boy, who is dear to my heart, to thank for putting me in the right mindset to kick it all off.

Two weeks ago, on a Sunday afternoon, post-holiday party late-night, between errands at Nordstrom and Party City, I made a stop at NorthPark. One of my students was playing his violin in a Suzuki Christmas Concert and his parents had invited me over email. I easily had 20 other things I could be checking off my list that afternoon - a friend's birthday dinner dessert recipe, groceries for school-lunch-sandwiches, laundry, lesson plans, gift-wrapping, you name it.

But as I made my way through the crowd of parents, Tiger-moms, camcorder-clad dads, and little siblings, I found a spot on the tile floor before the front row to watch these mini-maestros play their miniature stringed instruments. The music began, the children screamed lyrics over their instruments full of joy, parents proudly beamed from their seats, the director shook jingle-bells with the beat for over an hour, and I felt my eyes well up with tears and my heart swell.

I hadn't played any Christmas music yet this season. I hadn't listened to my beloved hymns, I had missed church that morning, I told my roommate it wasn't worth decorating our place.

Until that very moment when everything changed.

Memory upon memory came flooding back to me - the preschool nativity and sing-a-long my siblings and I still recreate every holiday, singing on Christmas Eve with lit-candles and lights turned low while we hum the last verse of Silent Night, birthdays spent watching White Christmas with my family members in our matching red flannel pajama sets, plucking out carols on the piano at my house with little brother showing-me-up guitar-style in the next chair over.... As each song started, I felt like it was Christmas morning.

What will they play next?
I know this one! I love this song!
I forgot about this one too!
Gloooooo-ooooo ooo-oooooo-ooooo-ria!

I found myself singing along immediately. I watched their little faces and sweet eyes as they sung their hearts out to the audience. I stopped and noticed passing shoppers who were covered with bags slow their pace to take in the performance they hadn't planned to attend.

I quit complaining in my mind about all of the little things that need to happen between now and December 20th. I remembered for a moment what it's like to see this season through their eyes.

My tiny musician doesn't even celebrate Christmas with his family. He probably had to borrow something red and green to wear for this big day at the mall, and his mom and dad have no idea what half of the lyrics mean. But everyone there, regardless of race and religion and musical capabilities was sharing something. Pure Joy. The wonders of winter. Believing, not seeing. Whether it's reindeer on the rooftop, Peace on Earth, or a story of a baby in a Manger, we all have something to celebrate.

So thanks, sweet family. Truly.

I don't mean to belittle the cookie-decorating parties, the carriage rides, the lights up and down my street each night as I go for a jog. These are the traditions I wait all year for. These are the best days.

It's just nice to be reminded that while the pictures on this list are full of fun, moments like that afternoon at Northpark are really what December, for me, is all about.

And tonight during my Martha Stewart impersonation gone-wrong, I needed to be reminded of that simple fact. That the presents don't have to be perfect, the people and the places and spaces where you make memories and spread that sheer joy are the most important parts.

"Love, actually, is all around."

Cheers!