Feeling Festive

I can't believe that my second crazy little critter will be 9 months old tomorrow. This is her at our playgroup holiday extravaganza on Wednesday. It shocks me that it was already 9 months ago tonight that I went to bed ~ disheartened from my OB appointment that day ~ and woke up thrilled to find myself in labor. 9 months ago tomorrow, our daughter was born.

We are in full Christmas swing around here. The tree is (amazingly) still standing, the stockings are hung, the Christmas outfits are bought, and Nate and I went Christmas shopping last night.

I am not a normal woman. I don't like shopping. I really don't. Everything about it annoys me ~ the traffic, getting a babysitter, the piped in Christmas music, the faux cheer, the frazzled sales people, the lines, etc etc. The whole "get Julia a Christmas dress" experience was annoying and stressful. First of all, they make them all short sleeved. Fantastic, if you live in Florida. In PA, not so much. I could make a killing creating a children's holiday dress wear line which actually had seasonally appropriate clothing available. Beyond the clothes....I don't like toys. My kids don't really have that many toys. They are probably officially deprived in the toy department. When Julia will spend 45 minutes playing with a whisk......why on earth buy a toy? I just am not one of those Mom's who gets into toys or gets all excited to buy them. More power to you if you do ~ in no way am I criticizing you, in fact, I am a little jealous of you. I wish that I could get more into it. The garish plastic and lights and bells and whistles and sound effects and stupid battery cases that only can be opened with the teeny tiny stupid little screwdrivers that NEVER can be found. Anyway.

Kids. If you read this someday:

I hope that you never suspected these things about when you were a child. I hope that you never knew that I resented having to get all into Santa, I hope that you never knew that I really disliked toys, and shopping, and I hope that you never knew that I actually wrapped up a whisk for Julia this Christmas. I hope that you didn't know that I considered burning our Christmas tree out of indignation at its refusal to stand up straight and not fall over. I hope that you didn't know that you don't have stockings this year because I have been pregnant with one or the other of you the past two years so didn't get you one ~ and this year I am too cheap to get the stupidly expensive ones that I really want until they go on sale after Christmas. I hope that the fact that I am an utterly terrible singer didn't turn you off to Christmas carols for your whole life. I hope that by the time Christmas starts being magical to you, I am better at the whole thing. I want it to be magical for you. Until then, I feel silly making something that you are totally unaware of magical. I'm either a giant scrooge, or a tremendously practical Mama.