You may gasp, or shake your heads, but I’ll be completely honest here. Holidays are pretty much a pain in the butt. They’re extra work; traditions created to induce massive spending and contrived to evoke fake holiday cheer. Bah humbug!
I’ve never completely fallen in lock-step. If the weather is pleasant and I’m not feeling lazy, I may get in the mood to decorate outside. It’s a rare occasion that I bake Christmas cookies, but I’ll happily eat any sent my way. I finally talked hubby into getting a fake tree last year, but I don’t have any immediate plans of putting it up yet. I’m getting tired of having people ask me what I want this year, because I don’t want to think that hard. I’m starting to feel a knot in my stomach because I’ve only just started my online shopping for hubby and the kids, and only one of the kids has given me any kind of list. Oldest son keeps saying that he really doesn’t want or need anything. He’s dead serious. He’s the most non-materialistic person in the world. But I’m a mother, for God’s sake. Even though I don’t buy into this game, there is no way a child of mine is not going to have some nice exciting things to open Christmas morning!
Once again, nobody knows what to buy my mother. She’ll get the same assortment of gift cards we’ve all decided would be the most appreciated gift for her on her fixed income. Then we’ll wonder if she really remembers to use them.
This whole deal is starting to become a little forced and humdrum to me. It used to be a little more exciting (although a lot more exhausting) when the kids were little. We had fun being sneaky, staying up late, sipping wine and waiting until the kids were finally asleep to load the presents under the tree. No one could get up and look at the presents until we all were awake. Then Big Daddy and I would load up on coffee and take pictures amid the excited shouts and squeals of delight. It was so much easier to buy toys!
On Friday, I sent out the final bits of information, complete with a required family photo and brief letter to a potential child, to the foster care agency where we’ve applied. There was a lot of paperwork involved, which really makes me wonder how some kids end up in crappy homes. They check everything. If I’ve really succeeded in not forgetting to send everything, we could actually get a call soon for a final walk-through of our home. I’m not even sure if this is possible, but I’ve started thinking it might be fun to have a rugrat here for Christmas. I’m thrilled to death to have my three big wonderful sons here with us on Christmas, but the real magic of Christmas is in the eyes of a young child, who has absolutely no idea what Santa may have brought. I think we’d all get a kick out of it!