When my kids were very young, they used to wake up on the morning of December 26 and immediately begin crying because Christmas was over. Desperate-witted as I was, I used to tell them, "Oh, no! Christmas isn't over! Do you know what today is? It's LITTLE CHRISTMAS--the day you spend doing nothing at all but having fun and eating Christmas candy and cookies! Now, let's play one of our new games!"
My kids are no longer gullible and easy to handle. They're all young adults, with adult-sized problems. I'm looking forward to sharing the easy part of my grandson's life with him--the time when he can still believe in Santa and still be pacified with a quick explanation of how much fun there is to be had each day. He was only about eight months old this Christmas, which meant he was more interested in knocking balls off the tree and chewing wrapping paper than in playing with his new toys, but next year should be really wonderful for all of us.
And next year, I really am going to simplify Christmas!!! I'm going to get my shopping and wrapping done early so the holiday doesn't turn into a forced march during the last few days. On December 23rd, 2005, I had just finished my shopping and was busy screaming at everyone around me to get busy wrapping, baking and cleaning.
What had I been thinking all throughout November and December? Was a morbidly obese elderly man in a red suit with white fur accoutrements supposed to have arrived at my front door with gifts for everyone on my list plus wrapping paper and scotch tape? Were the nice man's elves supposed to have wrapped and tagged all of my gifts while I made coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich for my perpetually-hungry visitor?
We had to work into the wee hours of the morning on the 24th and 25th, and it all seemed so senseless. Toward the end, I was piling five and six gifts on top of each other, throwing a big piece of wrap around them and mumbling under my breath, "Go ahead, you miserable shits--complain about your gifts being wrapped together and I'll jump up and snatch your pointy heads bald!"
My own procrastination had whupped my heiny once again and ruined what could have been a very enjoyable holiday celebration. I had, once again, turned Christmas into Angry Resentmas.
Hmmmm...I feel a New Year's Resolution coming on.
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3 comments:
I normally NEVER comment. Well, sometimes I comment but I always delete it. I just wanted to encourage you to continue posting. I think women of a certain age, (old enough to be grandmothers) are under-represented in the blogosphere. Especially funny women I can relate to. So. I may not say anything, but I will be back. Rae
You call yourself a blogger???
Get. Busy. Woman. It's 2006, or are you still baking cookies? LOL from another grandmother who came here from your daughter's blog. I see no way out of the Christmas hell except leaving the country.
You are hilarious! I see where your daughter gets it from. :)
I have a very close relationship with my mother and my one goal in life is to someday be as great a mother as she is.
Keep writing!
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