Total Truth Tuesday - Christmas Edition

Every year at Christmas I do the same thing. I profess for weeks in advance my desire to have a "simple" Christmas. I declare my refusal to get caught up in the commercialism of Christmas. And, I am successful every single year. Up until December 19th. And then I have some sort of bizarre attack of commercialism where the relentless Christmas marketing catches up with me and I falter. In a huge way.

I then go on some ridiculous Christmas present buying spree. And pick up things that were never on my list. Because I secretly adore the look on my kids face when they see all the shiny, colorful presents beneath the tree on Christmas morning. Even though it means I risk breeding society's preoccupation with materialism in my own kids.

Then every year, after the dust has settled, I feel insanely guilty for caving in. I have some sick, emotionally unhealthy, codependent relationship with Christmas shopping. It's like that crazy, dangerous "bad boy" you go out with an that you want to stop dating because you know it's just wrong, but it is so exciting to be with him that you just can't stop yourself. Or so I've been told.

Of course this year was no exception. I staunchly refused to buy into commercialism this year. I declared my righteous indignation at the shopping craze going on in the malls. I professed my commitment to making my girls' presents or buying handmade or, at the very least, buying only American made.

And, then my girls began their love affair with their Barbie dolls. And they played with them for hours every day. And they dressed them up and drove them around in their Barbie minivan and created a whole make-believe Barbie world for them.

Little by little, my resolve began to weaken. Until I found myself buying Mariposa Barbie and Fairy Barbie and Hannah Montana singing Barbie-ish dolls.

So, while my girls will have American made wooden puzzles and lacing beads and educational toys under the tree, there will also be a hefty dose of good old American commercialism with a dash of anti-feminist archetypes and unrealistic female body images thrown in for good measure.

But, they will be giddy with excitement come Christmas morning. And, I'm hoping all the Advent and Bible stories and Sunday school lessons will be enough to make them remember Baby Jesus when they're dressing their Malibu Barbie in her bright pink stilettos...