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I have to admit, I’m not really an atheist.  I’m also not really a super-duper Christian, either.  I’m not trying to get all wrapped up in the whole religion/politics/gun control debate, but let us settle at this crossroads:  I’ve got no problem with Jesus.  It’s the mega fan club that I’m not so sure of.  I also think that a person’s religious beliefs are kinda personal, and even though I admitted to wetting the bed as an adult in my last post (while pregnant – which is only a minor excuse), I’m not much in the mood to delve into a polarizing issue such as the merits of Jesus worshipping.  Deal?

Alice DID cry. We didn’t think it necessary to spring $12.00 for a picture of that, though.

The reason this is pertinent information:  I freaking LOVE Christmas.  And I LOVE Christmas carols.  I realized this afternoon that I have spent hours of the last week singing about Baby Jesus, Bethlehem and God.  Considering my aforementioned stance on Christianity, I realized that this is sorta odd of me.  But I liken it to really getting down to the smash hit of 2000; The Thong Song.  I don’t wear a thong, and though I may have “dumps like a truck,” (remind me to thank Cisco for that eloquent description of a woman’s ass), I don’t think my choice of undergarments prevent me from the freedom to shake my boot-tay to The Thong Song.  Though my musical preferences from twelve years ago leave much to be desired, apparently.

But back to Christmas.  I know, I’m going to piss someone off by “taking the Christ out of Christmas” or whatever, but if that’s going to ruin your day, there are a whole bunch of people blowing each other up in the Gaza Strip today, and I hope that gives you a little perspective.  To me, Christmas isn’t just about the birth of Jesus, it is about the spirit of goodwill.  Peace on Earth.  Family.  Generosity and thanks for what we’ve got.  Cookies, cookies and ohmygod more GLORIOUS COOKIES.

It is a time for me to spend with my family, and an excuse to be able to shower my little ones with gifts.  This Santa business also comes in handy when we have a three-year-old who needs to keep his naughty/nice priorities straight.  Whoever came up with that gem; I totally owe you one.

Christmas is a chance to do all the things you should be doing all year round; baking with those you love, partaking in one extra slice of pumpkin pie and going the extra mile when it comes to being generous to others who live without the staples of humanity; food, shelter, family and love.  And of course, cookies.  Almost forgot the cookies.  I am reminded that I am a selfish and self-centered individual at Christmas… I need to give more.  I need to be more thankful for the beautiful life that I have been blessed with.  I have two beautiful, healthy children.  A wonderful house.  A supportive family.  Two faithful (albeit neurotic) four-legged companions.  And a husband who is my perfect fit.  I’m lucky.  Really lucky.

Sometimes I need a little “Happy Birthday, Jesus” music to take stock in my life.  (Yes, I know, even though it isn’t even Thanksgiving yet.)  My family has been listening to the same exact Christmas carols since I was born.  My Uncle Mark digitized our cassette tapes years ago (which were recorded off of vinyl years before that), so now I get to pass them on to the next little generation of Christmas-carol-lovers.  And every time I hear the ping-y introduction to Frosty the Snowman, I am reminded of rolling around my Grandmother’s red, shag carpet with my brothers and playing My Little Ponies.  Hey, don’t judge about the carpet – it was the early 80’s and Grandma Toni had a very fashionable home at the time.

Christmas is also a time for tolerance.  That means that I can sing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” with a horde of Bible-Thumpers and neither one of us really cares which of the other’s heartstrings it pulls at.

So…  God, Allah, The Darwin Fish or The Flying Spaghetti Monster or [insert your deity of choice here] Bless You and Yours.