Being Jewish around the winter holidays gets a little interesting, and every Jewish person I know has a different way of dealing with “Christmas Creep” – the way the "Happy Birthday, Jesus" festivities start the day after Halloween. I have friends and relatives who are openly critical of the way Christmas has taken over winter. I have others who put up Christmas trees and wear ugly sweaters right alongside the true believers. But most of the people I know fall somewhere in the middle, and that’s why I'm going to tell you how to have a Very Jewish Christmas in a Christian-majority society.

Step One: Stop panicking and learn to love the Christmas Song.

Nothing sets my nerves jingle-belling more than the moment on the morning after Halloween when I turn on the radio and hear Mariah Carey singing “All I Want for Christmas is You.” This is irritating for a variety of reasons, one of which is that I can only tolerate “All I Want for Christmas is You” about five times during the holiday season, and that’s one down already. Another is that, despite the fact that most Hanukkah music does not translate well to the Top 40, I still spend at least a little time each year wishing that everyone else had to listen to “I Have a Little Dreidel” at least as many times as I have to hear “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas.” Spotify is your friend this time of year. So is NPR. If you can’t stomach either of those, invest in some headphones.

Step 2: Stop equating Hanukkah with Christmas.

I know this is tempting. It’s tempting for me to do it, even when Hanukkah fakes the rest of us out and decides to fall in November instead of December. It’s tempting because Hanukkah products like candles, gelt, and dreidels are usually marketed alongside all the Christmas stuff – albeit way in the back, down an aisle with Christmas rejects like Elf on the Shelf and the Singing Christmas Tree. But it’s not worth it. Hanukkah is like most Jewish holidays – a celebration of “They tried to kill us but we survived, so let’s rub it in their faces by having a party and eating a lot.” I think that’s good enough to stand on its own. We don’t need to equate it with Jesus’s birthday party for it to be important.

Step 4: Know thyself.

Part of knowing thyself is knowing exactly which Christmas movies you can handle watching with your Gentile friends and which ones will make you break out in hives. My recommendations are "Love, Actually," "Elf," and "The Family Stone." Be smart. Don’t commit to sitting through "The Polar Express" if you know you’ll be screeching about it halfway through. (Seriously, though: How can the book be so short and the movie so long?)

Step 4: Eat Chinese food on Christmas.

This one has been the object of Gentile puzzlement for as long as it’s been going on, but it’s a tradition born out of necessity, otherwise known as the fact that there’s nothing else open on Christmas. At this point, though, most people have bought into it, and I’m not going to pretend that Chinese food isn’t delicious. So, for those of you seeking a Very Jewish Christmas, seek out your nearest Chinese restaurant. No, not Panda Express. Have some self-respect.

Other than that, I can’t tell you much. Having a Very Jewish Christmas is less of an action and more of a state of mind. It’s the state of mind that allows you to smile as your friends speculate about the Hanukkah Fairy, or try to think of Hanukkah movies. It’s the state of mind that allows you to listen to the guy in line ahead of you at Starbucks yell at the barista for saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” and laugh to yourself. They tried to kill us but we survived, so let’s drink a holiday-themed drink and move on.