The tree is up.
Just one.
The one in the basement with the bulbs my kids have made and collected over the years is still sitting untouched at the bottom of the stairs beside the fireplace.
I will get to that one I swear I will.
Christmas is happening in baby steps this year.
I'm slowly getting in the mood.
Maybe it's because we don't have snow friends say. Truthfully, that would be cause for jubilation and celebration not disappointment.
And I'm not even very excited by that.
Grateful.
Just not excited or filled with jubilation and celebration.
Like normal.
Usually by this time I have my cards ordered, written, and stamped. Decorations sit on every shelf and flat surface and I've already played the holiday CDs multiple times in the kitchen CD player.
It will come.
I have two presents bought and wrapped and under the living room tree.
But it's December and there is so much more to do.
It's a start.
This year there will be no Christmas Day trek to my parents for a second celebration.
Their home is closed up until spring arrives.
Nobody is there.
We've locked the doors and the windows. We've turned down the temperature to a safe winter setting.
Already it doesn't feel like 'home' to me. It's nice to go there but it's just a gathering place for weekends for my brothers and I and our families.
It is definitely December.
Already we are a handful of days in.
And I know...I know...I am almost 50. A grown up.
So this is the weekend I will dig through the other totes of decorations and lights.
I will put some more things up.
I know where the CDs are. I might even play them.
All of the songs except one.
The dumb one.
...I'll be home for Christmas.
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