Classic lightbulb moment.

Despite the shopping and list-making that was a major component of the weekend, it hasn't felt like Christmas season. Acutely aware of the two-week window between Now and Then, I'd been so focused on getting ready for the holiday that I hadn't focused on enjoying the season.

I wound up discussing Christmas music this evening and, naturally, mentioned Bing Crosby.

BING. Lightbulb.

Bing Crosby. A key, unwavering component of Christmas. Each year growing up at my parents' home, when the time came to decorate the tree, my mother played two records. First, Alvin and the Chipmunks for my brother and I. And then "Bing Crosby Sings Christmas Songs" for her. I grew up listening to her listen to Bing's take on the standards - as she started out humming along and wound up harmonizing by the time "I'll Be Home For Christmas" (Track 7) kicked in.

I'd dance about, doing my best to steer clear of the boxes of ornaments, when "Christmas In Killarney" (which remains my favorite Christmas song) kicked in. She'd laugh and tell me I was forbidden to touch anything until the song ended. I couldn't care less - I was happy with the song, my laughing mother and the holiday to come.

B and I poured the glasses of wine left over from dinner and cued up the seasonal music. Beth looked to see my reaction upon playing "Christmas In Killarney" first.

I set down my glass on the coffee table and quickly set in. Heels kicking about, quick spins, a breathless laugh as I sang along.

How grand it feels to click your heels
And join in all of the jigs and reels
I'm handing you no blarney
The likes you've never known
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

She soon joined me, jumping about the living room until I clicked my heel against the leg of the couch and fell onto the cushions - amazingly, just as the song came to a close.

And then it felt like Christmas.