I think I was 14 before I realized that it was actually a "one horse open sleigh."
You know, as much as I fucking HATE Christmas sometimes, I love all the singing. The last few days as Soph and I have been driving around, she's been requesting, "Sing Christmas songs Mommy." I've been having fun doing "The Christmas Song" a la Karen Carpenter, "The Little Drummer Boy" a la David Bowie, and last night, I was totally channeling Billy Holiday while sing "Jingle Bells."
Soph's favorite is, like most 4 year olds, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." She has totally mastered the "like a lightbulb!" and "like monopoly" bits. My favorite just-for-fun Christmas song has got to be "Let it Snow." There's so much room to slide around in that one. Plus it's so cozy and just ever-so-slightly naughty. As for the more "serious" carols, for my money you can't beat "O Holy Night." Even though I'm not a believer, that crescendo "Fall on your knees. O hear the angels' voices. O night divine...." and so on gives me the shivers every time. That song just swells an breaks and swells again until you're ready to just shout out "God bless us, every one!"
Of course, I've always found "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" to be down right creepy. The, "He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake," is just too Santa-as-Stalker for me.
I also hate the "push-the-button-and-listen-to-the-carol" toys, ties, and whatever else. Yesterday, after Thanksgiving Part Deux at Grandma Bud's house, Soph, Grandma, and I all made the pilgrimage around the corner to the Griswalds. (Actually, I have no idea what their last name is, but their house is lit up like, well, like something very, very light-y. Katy, I think, refers to it as "The house Christmas threw up on.") This year along with the plastic baby Jesus surrounded by light up candy-canes and polar bears and every other tacky Christmas decoration in creation, they added a very electronic sounding carol bonger-outer. Yikes.
Today's best thing about being a mom:
Crayon masterpieces on the fridge
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
We just can't seem to get the haircut right these days.