If you want a nice, happy Christmas post…move on. This is your only warning.
December sucks.
On any given day in December so far, I’ve found myself waking up with an “Ugh”. Granted, I’m 6 mos. pregnant now, so there are a few more grunts and groans before I manage to sit upright. Then the day starts.
We eat breakfast staring at the very cute Nightmare Before Christmas christmas tree my kids and I set up for hubster. (It is all of maybe two feet tall, white, and covered in black and white and Jack Skellington ornaments. Very cute.)
My septic tank needs pumping. Only the ground is frozen, so getting into it is not going to happen. So I spend most of my days listening to the pipes gurgling, wondering what’s going to blow.
My hubby hunted down pens at the mall because I LOVE LOVE LOVE them and haven’t been able to find them in ages. (he bought me the four they had in stock, and ordered me more. One box in each of three colours, because he knows I like to colour code my notes.)
Our pipes have frozen in the basement, complete with burstage when hubby fixed them. Again, whenever the pipes gurgle…I wonder what’s going to blow. And how much it’s going to cost…
The ornament my middle son made at school and brought home for me is adorable, and the card he attached it to was full of his 5-year-old printing.
We have no Christmas tree, because we had no idea where we were spending Christmas. Were my in-laws coming here? Were we going there? No idea. So I only put lights up on my front window *cof*Monday*cof*.
Said lights are, however, beautiful.
The dog needs to be neutered.
Found the perfect lamps for my living room. Finally.
Dog chewed through two dog beds this month. And peed on the carpet behind my desk. Twice.
Hubby picked up votive candles for me so I can run my potpourri burner (and not smell the eau de dog pee that’s settled into the carpet)
I got an R&R, which suck on a good day, but make a bad day worse.
Hubby bought a two-foot tall tree so my middleson can decorate one and we can put presents under…something.
As you can see…every danged day is a Goodnews-Badnews sort of situation. And anyone I’ve spoken to is in the same situation.
And yet.
I’m blaring Christmas music, preparing to bake cookies with one five year old and one three year old, so we can pack up platters to take with us to Nan and Grampa’s tomorrow. I’m singing along with Bing and Bowie, and waddle-dancing along to the Stiff Little Fingers.
I’m having story ideas left and right, and time to sketch them all out while the kids play video games, or play…nicely!…together.
I’m somewhat convinced December really IS magic. Because any other time of year, I think I’d be curled in the fetal position on the couch. Instead…I’m making it through. Sometimes by the skin of my teeth, but I’m making it.
So I guess this is a somewhat happy post after all.
December 21st, 2007 at 11:59 am
Some days, surviving is the best we can do. At least surviving through December means you get cute photo opps with the kids and some giftage. And cookies. And food.
Enjoy Christmas, babe! (Bing and Bowie give me nightmares.)
December 21st, 2007 at 12:25 pm
Hugs on the rough December. That’s what makes it so wonderful, that it only happens once a year. After that, there is full permission to fall apart in style.
December 21st, 2007 at 3:28 pm
Yeah…I’ve been alternating between “wake me when it’s over” and…well…I guess that’s it. Just wake me when it’s over. Which is unlike me because I usually really love this time of year. But holy cow this month has packed a wollop. Mostly work stuff, thankfully.
December 21st, 2007 at 5:29 pm
Yep, I’m ready for it to be over. I’m blasting the Christmas sounds as well. And cleaning my carpets. And wishing I was a better housekeeper and….
Oh never mind.
January 5th, 2008 at 1:44 pm
Ohhhh, the dog pee. LOL Last night we were packing up my daughter to go back to college, adn we were generally ignoring the dogs. Bad idea when the puppy doesn’t actually bark to go out, but gives you “the stare.”
Well, no one saw “The Stare” and eventually we started noticing that we all had wet socks. And Momma dog was feverishly licking the floor under the kitchen table. Apparently trying to cover the puppy’s “tracks”. (Puppy, huh - she’s 2 years old!)
Yup, the puppy had walked around the kitchen, leaking everywhere. *sigh*