I know I'm blessed. Tremendously. Yet I'm about to have my 19th Annual Christmas Conniption. I still have shopping to do. Cookies to bake. Cards and letters to send. Laundry to wash. People keep getting sick here. Everyone is just... well, gross. So.Much.Snot. Oh, the humanity. I want nothing to do with any of them. We've gone waaaaaaaay over our Christmas budget. As the world sinks deeper into a global financial crisis, I am spending money on "one more" %$#!* gift. I have this vague, icky feeling in the pit of my stomach that I've accidentally gone more overboard on spending for some kids than others, which I won't know for sure until I dig the
My, that was a mouthful. Let's all just take a deep, relaxing breath, shall we?
This was supposed to be The Year of Scaling Back. The year when we really concentrate on The True Meaning of Christmas. The year when all the commercialism and materialism gets kicked out of our lives, once and for all, as we focus on God's gift to us. Um... Yeah. Not so much.
Am I the only one who is so pathetically disorganized? Am I the only one who gets sucked into the hellish world of lists and gifts and buying "one more thing?" Am I the only mom who gets so caught up in trying to make Christmas a wonderful, memorable experience for my family that it winds up sucking for me? Am I the only one with my head eternally up my...
Anyhoo, it could be worse. I know that. It could be like last year (see the rest of the story here, here, and here ). I truly am blessed and I shouldn't complain. Christmas will come, whether I'm ready or not, and it will be wonderful. Snot, laundry, and all.
*On a totally unrelated note, I should warn you all that I'm getting ready to import all the posts and comments from my old blog over to this blog and delete the old one. I've noticed that a few readers still access this blog from the link on the old one. If that's you, you'll have to update your link. Also, if you use Google Reader or something similar, you're going to see a bunch of "new" posts from me. Just ignore them, unless you are so totally in love with my idiocy that you want to go back and reread my old posts. And who could blame you?