I hate the holidays. I’m sure having my only other past, intense relationship crumple around this time of year doesn’t help. Neither do the short, gray days that reflect the gray inside my head and heart. But most of all I blame my orthodox Jewish education who said we are the minorities – we are – and we are not part of everyone else – not true. They reveled in being separate and persecuted. We were special, in that we did not belong. And not belonging created (so far) a life-long wedge between me and the xmas commercial crap that is shoved down our throats each year. You’re probably thinking, “bah humbug!” But I know all the xmas songs by heart and I’ve never tried to learn any of them. And when I lived in Paris I loved the holidays. Beautiful decorations everywhere, but no intense commercial marketing. When I babysat for a Mormon family in high school and college, I really felt a warmth about the holiday. For them it was, yes about Jesus, but more importantly it was about family. Now, as a parent, I find my anger about the holidays returning. From every direction, in all forms of media, everyone is telling you to buy stuff. And my toddler is caught up in this tsunami because she doesn’t understand this forced consumerism. I try to shield her as best as I can, but the decorations, like the marketing campaigns, are colorful and distracting and everywhere. And I have to explain to her that they are not for us, because we’re Jewish. She quiets and looks thoughtful after I say this. And I wonder how the wheels that are turning in her head are processing this. I don’t want her to feel excluded, but unfortunately that might be the end result anyway. At least, in our home. We’re headed to the mid-west at the end of the month to visit my in-laws, who are Catholic. She’ll get her fill of xmas there, grandma will see to it. I guess I just really hope she won’t try to talk to my daughter about Jesus. Even though I have no control over who my daughter becomes – gay? conservative? athiest? – I really want her to feel pride in being Jewish. And let’s face it, xmas is alluring, with its shiny decorations and its mountain of gifts (a sure thing from grandma – my daughter is the first grandchild, and she’s adorable). As for preparing, I’m not sure there’s much I can do except be flexible and be aware of my state of mind so I’m not triggered. Do I ask grandma not to talk religion with my daughter? Do I dare? Maybe after I first see what she’s bought me.