I’ve been experimenting with simple-but-stunning hand-dipped candies, and nothing is as easy or cheap as it seems, and even the Pioneer Woman’s cake balls were a disappointment in the taste department. (More on that later.)

It’s enough to make me wish I could follow Suzy’s pre-emptive Halloween strategy. She tapes a You’ve Been Booed ghost to her window in late September so the Angels-of-Chain-Dessert-Death pass over her loved ones in search of cooperative chumps.

A Bah! Humbug sign probably won’t fly with the kids, but I am going to declare my independence from guilt and rushing and last-minute reciprocating. I won’t be mailing out Christmas cards — I know I always say that and then on December twelfth I drag the entire family to the classy photo-art place (Sears) for a spontaneous, captivating photo shoot, and then I frantically assemble cards for only 100 of my closest friends and family members.

Well, this year I’m really not going to do cards. REALLY. Which doesn’t mean I won’t be writing a cheerily whitewashed and exaggerated (rhyming) epic poem about our “accomplishments” and “achievements” and how cute it is that Spot likes purple sippy cups. (Note: Remember to sign one of the girls up for music lessons this month to round out our “interests”). I’ll just post that letter here for all of you to glance at, set on the mantle, and then chuck in the trash.

Also, I’m thinking of skipping our traditional tree. Maybe we should go green and do something like this:

Isn’t it fantastic? Check out the original at Mountain Dew Christmas Tree.

Are there any Christmas traditions you could do without? Anything on your to-do list that kills your Trans-Siberian Orchestra buzz even before Thanksgiving? Tell me. Maybe if we each cross off each others’ least favorite Christmas customs, we’ll all end up with manageable schedules and a true feeling of peace.

Jane