Scratch That, I Still Hate Christmas

So, the high of my bargain gift shopping has worn off and I realize that I still hate Christmas after all. I'm pretty Scroogey every year, but I'm finding it especially hard this year to even pretend to be the least bit excited.

Maybe it's the religious undertones, however hidden under the twinkling lights and Spongebob gift wrap and commercialism. Maybe it's the whole bandwagonish-ness of the season; the more excited everyone else gets, the more I want to vomit (While shopping the other day, a woman passed me humming a holiday tune to herself and I was actually surprised to hear myself mutter under my breath "Oh, just shut up..."). Maybe it's the weather; I hate the cold and the snow and the half-hour of bundling I must do to get kids out the door. Maybe I can't get the memory of one horrible Christmas out of my mind. Maybe it's the pain-in-the-ass Christmas tree, the bottom third of which is completely dismantled on an hourly basis by the little one. Maybe it's the two-week break from school, and the added noise and chaos in my house that makes me feel like my face is going to explode sometimes. Maybe it's the overwhelming pressure; one extra obligation and expense after another. Maybe it's the parties to attend or the clothes I can't wear or the desserts I must bake or all the gifts to buy or the all the money I must spend or the all the gifts I must wrap or the guilt I feel for not sending out cards this year.

Maybe it's my impending divorce. Or that my husband seems determined to make me as miserable as he is. Or that I must somehow manage to get two inches of snow shoveled from my driveway and front walk (which probably doesn't sound especially daunting, but, at the risk of sounding like a spoiled princess, I've never shoveled snow before in my life and the idea of learning now, when I'm 7 months pregnant, just pisses me off because I think my husband should still be willing to do things like this for me, in spite of his anger, and if for no other reason than out of concern for the well-being of his child that I'm carrying). Or that I'm dreading the inevitable confrontation about the kids on Christmas: who will be where and when and for how long.

It's the first day of winter, the first real snow this season, the first day of winter break for the kids and I just can't wait for all of it to be over.

See, Your Sack Is Misshapen Because Your Nuts Are Too Big

I bought several packages of those delicious flavored almonds from one of those places in the middle of the mall where it always smells so good when you walk past and I always get the free samples of the delicious flavored almonds but never actually purchase any. I figured these made pretty good gifts for bus drivers, right? Plus, they were on sale: 7 packages for $20. Usually, they're 3 for $12. So that was even better since I'm cheap broke extremely economically efficient. Plus, I was already at the mall. Plus, I couldn't think of anything better to get. Plus, I really wanted the extra package of nuts for myself. Plus, the bus driver is awesome because if I'm running late or stuck in traffic, I just have to make a phone call and he'll finish his route and then come back and drop my kids off at our house. Which is exactly what happened yesterday when I lost track of time sniffing and tasting nuts. So, like I said, he's awesome. Plus, I think he's extra nice to me and my kids because this one time he made a comment to me about having so many babies and then later on he apologized for it. But it wasn't even necessary (the apology) because I wasn't offended in the first place. But that won't stop me from using his guilt to my full advantage.
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Oh, and while I was at the mall, I found gifts for the kids' teachers at Bath & Body Works (who doesn't love stuff like that?). I mean, super cheap stuff that smells really good. Almost as good as the bus driver's nuts.
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And also I went to Target to get gift bags for the lotions and the nuts and decided to get the Christmas-y treat bags they had for 25 cents each. They're essentially brown paper sacks, but not brown and decorated with Christmas trees or a snowmen or penguins and shit and hello?
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25 cents!

So, basically, I got all the bus driver and teacher gifts for really cheap, which made me super happy and I started to think that maybe I don't hate Christmas, after all.

Plus, I made that awesome joke about the misshapen sack when I was helping my 9 year-old assemble the gifts and I tried like hell not to laugh but it seemed even funnier because she totally didn't get it.

Not My Other Blog

So, a year or two ago, I created a blog to share updates and photos of my kids, mostly, with family and friends. And when I was cornered, literally, by my mother-in-law, I shared the link with her, too. And on the rare occasion that I expressed my thoughts, or opinions, or God forbid, feelings, on my blog, I inevitably heard the disparaging remarks through the grapevine, and once or twice, read them in my blog comments. I wanted to scream: "IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, STOP READING IT!"

There are times that I really want to blog about something or another, but don't, for fear of judgement or criticism. I want to blog the details about myself and my life, but don't, for fear of being accused of embarrassing family. Sometimes I want to share my opinion about something [gasp] not related to my kids or motherhood! I want to be able to bitch about people I know! I don't want to always blog as if I am a perfect mother with perfect kids living in our perfect house in our perfect suburban neighborhood. That's just not me.

But this blog is. And if you know me in real life, or from my other blog, read at your own risk.