For approximately 330 days out of the year I love all things modern, sleek and clean lined. I devour Dwell magazine and dream of living off the grid in a minimalist house. If you have seen When Harry Met Sally - you know the part with the Wagon Wheel coffee table?? I married a country boy - luckily my man has better taste than that, but he loves rustic, and in the name of marital harmony we compromise on design.
So we march through the year with a decidedly modern flavour and then end up in December. Something short circuits and I explode in a burst of cheesetastic country love. In a house where I never would have dreamed of knick-knacks, I suddenly have a mantle covered in cute(barf!) snowmen. I hang Santa wreaths on the door and set out Christmas hand towels in the loo.
How does this happen? Something about Christmas being sleek and modern makes me cringe. I want red, white and green. I want cute doodads here and there. I even love my snowman dishes.
It is utterly barftastic.
I grew up with a family that decorated one thing - the tree. Nothing else. So how did I become the keeper of all things Christmas?? Will my kids one day have no tree and no decorations because they felt their mother was too Christmas-y? Will they hate singing Jingle Bells? Will they boycott the Nutcracker? Am I being a tad neurotic??
WHERE IS THE EGG NOG???