There are things from childhood that will stay with you as long as you live.  It might be a phrase that reminds you of an old relative, or a food that will always be associated with a particular place.  For me, it is a smell that sends me straight to a certain time of the year -- Christmas.  This scent, albeit not enjoyable to begin with, conjures up feelings of embarrassment.

Why? my friends would ask.  Why does your mother have your Christmas tree up at Thanksgiving?  And why does your house smell like moth balls?

My mother looks forward to the Christmas season the way a man anxiously awaits the start of the football season.  Unfortunately in life, there are no rules and no set time periods for holiday decorations to be displayed.  Every year the boxes containing our holiday seem to be pulled from storage earlier and earlier.

I have come to blame part of my mother's obsession with our Christmas tree on the fact that she is a teacher.  What do kids get their teachers for Christmas?  Ornaments.  Tons and tons of ornaments.  I think she is convinced that it takes an extra month to find places for each of them on our tree and that it's completely necessary to make the light:ornament ratio at least 100:1.

I generally retreat into Grinch mode until the 20th, at which time I will concede to the season and show a bit of holiday flair.  However, in the past couple of years, attempts to coerce me into accepting the early decorations were obvious, the first of which was my own tree.  It has all ornaments that I either bought or received.  Yes, bought.  Uh oh.

To the left is probably the only ornament that I have truly treasured.  My kindergarten teacher made one for each of the students in our class.  She passed away a couple of  years ago due to cancer but I will always have this little piece of reminder the love she had for her students.

I will have to reconcile my fear of Christmas trees at some point.  I only know that there is one thing that will jump start my holiday.

If for nothing else, I will open my heart and mind to the holiday for these...

I never cried from laughing until a couple of years ago, when my boyfriend showed me the ornaments he made as a child.  At least 10 minutes of hysterics passed before I was able to catch my breath and wipe the tears from my eyes.  Small pom pom pandas glued to wooden stars...  styrofoam balls dipped in glitter and hung by pipe cleaners...  best of all, the cotton worm inside a painted egg crate apple.  It was too much to handle.  His mother has promised me that when we have our own house, I will be given possession of these artifacts but they may never touch another branch.  I will have them in clear cases on display year round.

No occasion would be complete without letting the neighbor's cat inside the house.