Yeah, yeah, goodwill and happy holidays. Whatever.

I have a love-hate relationship with this holiday season. I love the holidays. I love my family, because I love my husband I love his family (albeit in small doses.) I like pretty lights, and I like my children's reactions to pretty lights. Decorating a Christmas tree is like a trip down memory lane, because I still have all of the ornaments my parents gave me every year as I was growing up ("Look, here are the gazillion ballet themed ornaments from before I stopped dancing and ballooned up like something from the Macy's parade. And here are the gazillion chocolate themed ornaments that remind me of how I became a float.") I have an ornament of a pregnant lady, and it's got the dates of the three Christmases I spent pregnant. My church is beautiful during Advent, and I get totally choked up when I watch the kids to the Nativity play. Thanks to cable TV, I get see the Grinch, Rudolph, George Bailey, the Meisterburger Burgermeister and Tiny Tim multiple times. I get to see Flick get his tongue stuck to a pole, and Randy Parker tip over from the layers of sweaters and coats, and hear Mr. Parker exclaim "Fra-ge-lay! It must be Italian!" I hate the holidays. I vow every year that I am going to get my shopping, or at least a decent portion of it, done before Thanksgiving. Then time gets away from me, and it's suddenly Black Friday and I have bought close to nothing, and I am trying to determine how I am going to find time to finish it all. I shop for the kids, DH, my nuclear family, stocking stuffers, the kids' teachers, and a grab bag (I decided a few years ago to make DH shop for his side of the family.) It's time to do Christmas cards, but it become harder each year to get all three children looking at the camera and making appropriate facial expressions at the same time. I have a Board meeting in December, so at least one week of the holiday prep season is filled with me becoming neurotic about briefing books, hotel arrangements, catering and trying to capture motions and resolutions. DH has two Christmas concerts, one the day before DD's and one the day after. Oh, and I'm hosting Christmas dinner, even though DH is going to a football game (he's decided not to leave for the game until 7:30, putting me back on the hook for entertaining.) Ah, the peace of the Christmas season, broken by me shooing my two year old away from the Little People Nativity scene and telling him to get Baby Jesus off of the roof...


Blogger kalisah said...

girl, I can relate.

I hate Christmas myself. Too much bullshit surrounding it. I'm not even comfortable enough with it to distinguish between the hate and the love, so you're one ahead of me, baby.

12/01/2005 11:14 PM  

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Who's Who

    Hubby- aka DH My husband since 1995. He is the head of the band department at a college prep school, and dabbles as a wanna-be pop star.

    The Princess- aka DD. Third grader at the local parochial school. Loves butterlies, sparkly things, the color purple and has recently developed a crush on one of the twins from "The Suite Life of Zach and Cody". Is ready for her teenage years, having already perfected her exasperated sigh and dramatic eye-roll.

    Hoss- aka DS1. Kindergartener and resident spirited child. His aunt likes to call him "the evil genius" because of his penchant for letting a lack of intellectual stimulation lead him into mischief. Likes trucks, sports, building things and burping. His current favorite word is "underwear."

    Lil Joe- aka DS2. Born in 2003. Doesn't say much we can understand, but has mastered the important stuff ("eat!", "Wash hands!", "Want chocolate ones!", "Hockey game!") Likes to push buttons, much to the consternation of whoever is trying to watch a DVD. Firmly refuses to use the potty, despite evidence that he is physically ready to be out of diapers, indicating a level of stubborn that eclipses even that of his parents and siblings.

    Me? I'm the Mama. That's all you need to know.

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