I used to love them. I used to get excited and worked up over all the little details, all the special moments, all the lights and warmth and togetherness.
Then I had kids.
With one, it was still fun -- the excitement of fall, the anticipation of family and friends, presents and more.
Now that there are two of them and I'm outnumbered, I can totally understand why the suicide rate increases so drastically this time of year.
Ryan's in school, which means lots of new activities and parties and desserts to be made and treats to be packaged and guilt over not being able to volunteer because of Jaxson, who refuses to accept the term "Sit Still". I love to bake, I love spending time in the kitchen and making yummy homemade goodies. I love giving our creations to our friends and family, neighbors and acquaintances. I do not love how much it costs to purchase all the items needed. I do not love the grocer's exuberance over providing hundreds of foil roasting pans for turkey and such, but no extra foil pie pans. I was THIS CLOSE to having a Steve Martin "Father of the Bride" moment in the store yesterday. THIS CLOSE.
I love spending time with family, I do not love it that everyone in my family is childless, and can therefore afford to do the things we cannot, yet still insist on having us do them anyway. I do not like my inability and unwillingness to say NO.
I love the convenience of credit. I do not love the credit companies.
I love having a clean, inviting home during the holidays. I do not love mopping the floor,then finding it sticky with juice, scratched by rocks, and cluttered with crumbs 10 minutes later. I do not love doing the massive amount of dishes from baking and such, only to turn around and find that the 2- gallon tupperware bowl my husband thought would fit the turkey is now sitting, covered in turkey juice, in the sink. I do not love that.
I love spreading holiday cheer (can't you tell?) by sending treats with Shawn to his employees. I do not love that after a long day of cleaning, re-cleaning, shopping, baking, cooking, and laundry, all my husband can think to ask me is "Did you iron my clothes yet?", and "why are you even making this stuff?"
I love being able to provide a calm, relaxing atmosphere for Shawn to come home to after a bad day at work. I love the clean bedroom, covers turned down in case he wants to rest a bit, the low lighting, etc. I do not love the way he decided to shit all over it by throwing his crap everywhere for me to pick up.
I do not love all the requests for donations I cannot turn down, yet really can't afford. Teacher gifts, aide gifts, "special"(music, pe, worship) teacher gifts. I do not like it when the Fraternal Order of Police calls me to chastise me for never sending in the contribution I pledged. I do not like that.
I hate the people all around you, with their slimy, stinky, rude kids pushing and shoving and running over toes. I hate the commercialism of Christmas, and the fact that everyone completely skips over Thanksgiving. I hate how greedy we all are, how we are made to feel less-than if we don't own EVERYTHING.
I hate "holiday schedules", which throw my entire world into a whirlwind of chaos, leaving Ryan waiting half an hour for me at school because it turns out that yes, they did cancel Spanish class, regardless of what 3 different parents and the assistant principal said.
I hate my dry skin.
But, I hope everyone has a VERY Happy Thanksgiving. Gobble.
The Boarding House by The Pioneer Woman
1 day ago