I'm not ashamed to admit it's because of the gifts.
Shocking, I know. Ask any 8-year-old and they'd give the same response. But a 28-year-old? Not so cute. While I agree wholeheartedly with Dr. Seuss that Christmas comes without packages, boxes, or bags, I feel compelled to put in my two cents. Christmas is a gift-giver's annual dream come true! I get jumping-up-and-down giddy during this particular season because I love giving gifts -- little, big, extravagant, simple, homemade, purchased, tangible, experiential -- it doesn't matter, I like them all! Before you roll your eyes and start printing my profile picture for your dart board, please take into account that I have NOT finished all my Christmas gifts, I even struggled to think of a few, and no, they won't be wrapped until at most a day or two beforehand (lest credence be given to the suspicion that I have too much time on my hands). I don't know if it's because I'm just generally giving my inner creative resourcefulness more spotlight these days, the homemade junkie in me has kicked in, the fact that after marriage my list of gift recipients more than doubled, or none of the above; but in the past couple years I've begun to relish in my gift-giver trait. Naturally, it can come in handy this time of year; but giving presents is a year-round custom that I've grown to really enjoy.
I think the method to my madness (of this variety, at least) is a combination of two things: the time and creative energy needed to plan, construct, and/or find the gift and secondly, the ultimate gratification of the gift-opening moment. I'm a "planner" and the challenge of producing a thoughtful gift is an exciting adventure that I regularly keep in the back of my mind. In his book, The 5 Languages of Love, Gary Chapman states that gifts are a tangible symbol of love and almost across the board they speak, though louder to some, to a person's innate need to be loved. That concept resonates with me and I've discovered that I often use this gift-giving tactic of communication. I recently read an article in the magazine Mary Jane's Farm where a farming couple was quoted as to why they offer extravagant farm-sourced outdoor dinners in which they financially barely break even. The wife said, "You can give guests these crazy moments in their lives where they remember everything -- where they were, how they felt...blissfulness that's hard to get as humans...". Whether the response is tears, a toothy grin, belly laugh, or just a "look", taking in the blissfulness of someone I care about gets me every time. I want the receiver of a gift to be whirled away as much with the excitement of the item they've just received as with the feeling, the knowing, that I care, I love them. When they use, see, or remember that gift, it'll take them back to the "opening moment" and the warm feeling coupled with it. Now, I'll be the first to clarify that giving gifts isn't about passing on "stuff" or constantly outdoing yourself. I personally think our culture is saturated and over-stimulated by "stuff" and extravagance. However, the right match of item/experience with recipient can be a wonderfully winning combo that both makes memories and builds relationship.
I honed my gift-giving skills as a child. Humble Note: After reading the following you may agree that I was somewhat of a prodigy...wink, wink. For as long as I can remember, I'd often pick flowers in the yard for my mom (though later she might have had the heart to explain that this particular variety wouldn't grow back and please pick ____ or ____ instead). Other times my sisters and I might surprise my dad when he got home from work with a handwritten dinner menu at the door and a candlestick on the table for an Italian pasta supper trying to re-create the restaurant from Disney's Lady & the Tramp, no doubt. In middle school I wrote a poem or two for friends that moved away or to give as framed presents for family. And then there were birthdays! I distinctly remember the year that one of my sisters turned 11, which meant I was turning 8 as she's three years older than me to the day. That year I wanted her to feel extra special at her party so I loaded her down with at least 3-4 little boxes of all the treasure I could get my hands on -- used eye shadow, headbands that I'd "borrowed" from her a long time ago, knick knacks and decorative animal statues, loose change I discovered in our shared bedroom (likely already hers), some bracelets from my personal jewelry box, an aged stuffed animal or two...the list went on and on. Sweet thing that she is, my sister graciously opened the lot in front of all her school friends and only gave me weird look a couple times, mostly for the embarrassment of yet another box from little 'ol me. I peered over the edge of the table nearby with a smile -- I just love these gift-opening moments!
Before you start envisioning me as "Aunt Tilly" with a plethora of awful knit sweaters to punishingly distribute every year, I'd like to admit that I realize giving homemade gifts often wanes in popularity as a person grows older, unless you're Aunt Tilly. I've concluded that this is partly because "homemade" can have a connotation of being sub-par, hodgepodge, "cheap", or even slightly impractical (how many crocheted vacuum covers can you really put to use?) I try to steer clear of these negatives while still embracing the homemade and experiential gift-giving experience as my first choice. I never want to sacrifice the beauty, creativity, sacredness, and wonder that Christmas and other gift-giving opportunities represent by going with homemade because it just seems easier, cheaper, or familiar. I like to be intentional about it. Looking back, I've noticed that as I got older, my gifts got slightly more refined in three basic ways: I started to pick/make gifts largely based on the recipient's wants & needs; I began to use the entire experience, including presentation (i.e. wrapping), as part of the fun; and with age came the concrete reality that money doesn't grow on trees and thus, my creative and budget-conscious flair started to work in tandem with my increased desire to learn new creative & mechanical skills.
When I was turning 8 it was thoughtful and sweet to give my sister every treasure I could find, but now I'm pretty sure it wouldn't go over so well if I'd gathered unwanted items from my home to give her, unless she specifically voiced interest in the items. It might, however, be a hit to go in with family members to buy her the perfect piece of exercise equipment she wanted (wonderfully priced on craigslist). Likewise, I try to be sensitive to my recipient's preferences if I'm giving food -- sweets, like homemade raw milk ice cream, to the sweet tooth and savory delights, like homemade herb farmer's cheese, to the salty eater. I've also learned that if my recipient is wonderfully skilled or an expert in a particular area i.e. sewing or woodwork, it's best to save myself from scrutiny and give a gift from a different angle that's still right up their alley i.e. paint a piece of salvaged furniture, make a wood-shop sign with old hand tools, or custom design a piece of jewelry. I will, however, venture to pick a sewing project like a cool satchel bag, rag dolls, or hair accessories for kids and teens and feel comfortable enough with power tools and woodwork on a simple birdhouse, cutting board, or item that doesn't need to be professional-grade perfect to be used and enjoyed.
I was in college when I accidentally hit upon the fun of creative wrapping. I'd rescue old magazines from my housemates' recycle bins and tear out pretty pages with splashes of shining color and eye-catching geometry. These became a patchwork of "wrapping paper" always tied with a cluster of fabric ribbon. (I've learned to save any ribbons that come within my reach). This wrapping wasn't necessarily "Christmas colors", but each person had their own paper & ribbon color-scheme -- silver & green, black & gold, hot pink & purple; it became an annual treat that the family looked forward to when I returned home on college break. Since then, I've used anything from decorated brown paper bags to retired maps, large scraps of cloth to netted produce bags from the grocery store lined with tissue paper. I also have no shame in re-using gift bags, tissue, ribbon & the like. People get a kick out of how these otherwise mundane items become attractive and special when paired with a bit of ribbon and creative ingenuity. I've seen my ribbon clusters hung on car mirrors, wrapped on bedposts, and saved for posterity in all sorts of nooks...and still others generously given back to me for re-purposing in future. While adding to the fun, these methods of wrapping also save a few dollars...which brings me to my last, but certainly not least, gift-giving train of thought.
Tapping into experiential or memory-making gifts can sometimes yield nearly free presents; but the forethought and effort taken has significant value. For instance, I wrote a song for two of my sisters that coincidentally was thematically suited for a performance to my senior class at our college baccalaureate ceremony. It made for a good cry at the time and my sisters and I (who had traveled as a band for almost 7 years at that point) performed it on tour following my graduation. Much more recently -- this July, in fact -- I gave my husband a birthday present. I'll preface the story with the fact that my husband's birthday is in February. On his actual birthday he opened a funny card with two homemade "tickets" for VIP seats to hear U2 play at Vanderbilt University Stadium in Nashville. Whoa, Whoa, Whoa...VIP seats to a U2 concert!?! No, I didn't take out a loan to make such a purchase. I asked Nashvillian friends of ours who I learned lived in the neighborhood of the stadium if we could impose on them with juicy steaks on the night of the July concert. While being in the stands at the actual concert would have been breathtaking, we had a blast with our friends, sat in comfy seats, ate a delicious gourmet meal, and heard Bono PERFECTLY from their porch. I'll guarantee that traffic leaving their house was a whole lot lighter than the stadium parking lot, the quirky out-of-the-box memories of the evening will be talked about for years to come, and it was a super bonus that I didn't have to exchange our monthly bills being paid for the ticket fee. This is not to say that I don't spend money on gifts. On the contrary, my husband and I are pretty cognizant of having an annual gift budget. Wherever possible we spend frugally but do not balk at the necessity to use our money for some gifts that simply must be purchased or on materials required to make a gift i.e. earring hooks, wood glue, etc. It's a give and take. We spend where it's needed and save wherever possible. Ultimately, we'd like to get to a place where 90% of our gifts are homemade or experiential, whether for Christmas, anniversary, birthday, or no good reason. This year it's been closer to 60%. As a rule of thumb, I try to remember if the bottom line comes down to finances, the best gifts are time and oneself.
In the end it really is the thought that matters most. Wasn't it the Little Drummer Boy who simply brought what he had to the manger in Bethlehem? He got a smile. What more could he ask for? When the flurry of Christmas is around me and I'm attempting to finish gifts, coordinate special scheduling, time my recipes, and juggle regular life, I don't want to get so caught up in the frenzy that I don't take in the many moments that make this season merry and bright. Whether sewing on a button as the eye of a doll, making an aluminum wrapped cardboard star to crown our first Christmas tree, offering my nephew the spatula dripping with coffeecake batter, waiting with anticipation to open our daily dose of Christmas cards with my husband, or watching the first gift get opened -- these are the little things that add up to be wonderful. It is at these times that I'm okay doing more with less, planning ahead, keeping it simple, and taking it all in to the fullest of my ability. And when it's all over, I can't wait start to counting the days til the soonest occasion on the calendar to give so-and-so that next idea I have in mind. I can't help it!
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