Wednesday, December 1, 2010

The Holidays

Oh, the holidays!

That magical time of year when my kids are fed too much sugar, stay up too late, get thrown off their schedule and in general become little, tiny walking zombies.

I love my relatives but having them around the kids all at once is like being in one of those movies where the underdog is surrounded by a group of skilled Ninjas all wearing the same outfit. You always hope that guy wins, but it seems improbable at the time.

That's how I feel when I have nineteen different people handing Carter a cookie, or sneaking Grant a few bites of pie. I'm their only defender...and also I only have one hand with which to fight them off because the other is clearly busy holding my wine glass.

"But it's the holidays!"

Yes, I know. And there is nothing merrier than a two year old waking at 3am to puke up a stomach full of sweets. You coming over to clean that up? Right.

That's the problem, everyone gets to enjoy them while they are being all cute and Christmasy and then the second they fuss it's "Oh, he's out of sorts...go see Mommy!"

Mommies get the short end of this whole Christmas deal. Like, OK, who picks out all the presents, buys them, wraps them and then places them out on Christmas morning? Mom. And who gets all the credit? Friggin SANTA!

So, when Carter has a really cool, awesome, unbelievable toy that he LOVES, he's gonna go around telling everyone that Santa gave it to him.

I really want to be like "Yes, but Mommy told him that you'd enjoy getting all those cars..soo...a little recognition??"

Know what else is fun this time of year? Trying to navigate a giant double stroller through the mall stores with their itsy bitsy little aisles. People with kids have to shop too, people! And its a hell of a lot easier for you to get out of my way than for me to move out of just move without the damn attitude and we can all spread around the Christmas cheer.

Today I actually hit some lady in the foot with my stroller. Totally by accident. But the look she gave me, even after I said sorry, made me reeeeeally want to hit her again....and again. This is how stroller rage starts, I'm a classic case.

Is it a bad thing that I came home from the mall, put my kids for a nap and poured myself a drink? Maybe. But its making me a whole lot cheerier.  And isn't that the reason for the season?

1 comment:

  1. He said please when he wanted more whoopie pie. How am I supposed to say no to that?