Christmas

Merry Christmas. I love the meaning of Christmas. I love that it is supposed to be a holiday centered around our Saviour. I love the beautiful theme of the season, that a loving Heavenly Father sent his Son here to earth to save us all. I love that about Christmas. That it is supposed to be a time of reflection and gratitude for purpose of our lives. I love how universal a holiday it is. There are many many religions that believe in the same Jesus Christ that I do, and it is nice to have some common ground with them.

With that said, I will now begin my purge. I hate Santa. I like the whole idea of the spirit of giving and the wonderful surprises that come during the holidays, but I hate Santa. I hate the commercialization of him. I hate what the big red suit has come to symbolize and I am having a hard time coming to some sort of peaceful agreement to stay nice during this season. Today I have to tell my seven year old daughter that he is not real. Why? Because the teachers at school think it is cute to perpetuate the lie. They don't take an inactive stance in anything these days. They play up Santa. They use him to coerce children to behave. It's wrong! I don't talk about Santa much, because I don't want them to put so much weight into him. But I have overheard my daughter say more than once "Be good! Santa's watching!" Umm...that's not something I have ever said. Not once.

The other day we were discussing what everyone wanted for Christmas. I asked my daughter and she says "I want an iPod and a three story Barbie house, with furniture." Now, she knows things have been kind of tight around here lately, and has been okay with that. So I tell her "These things cost money, dear, I don't think that you will be getting that." And her response? A Lovely, well thought out, not based on any logic response. "But MOM!" Insert eye roll here. "SANTA is bringing it!" Like DUH! It's not going to cost you anything! That fat guy takes care of it. It was at that moment that I knew that somehow, I was going to have to bring myself to let her in on the secret of Christmas. Later today I am taking her shopping, and she is going to help me pick out stocking goodies. I hope she can connect two and two. I may have to spell it out to her by the time we are done, but at least her heart won't be broken Christmas morning.

Hormonal Hell

Let me tell ya, having a baby messes with your hormones. Not getting enough sleep messes with your hormones. Not eating properly messes with your hormones. Lack of activity messes with 'em. Exercising messes with 'em. Birth control messes with 'em. So in a perfect world, free of mood altering brain chemicals, we would never have babies, always get the perfect amount of sleep, eat like we live in the garden of Eden, and have the perfect balance of physical activity. Right?

So yesterday, I was on the down low. Teary, angry, upset. In general I was not having a good day. Last night I did not sleep well, at all. I went to bed late because I wasn't tired, and had a hard time falling asleep. The baby didn't wake up until 5 AM which helped a lot, but let me tell you, I did a lot of clock peeping between 1:30 and 5.

Then this morning. Everything I have thus stated so far should indicate that I woke up a bear, and I am grumpy as a wet hornet. On the contrary though! I laid in bed nursing my baby until 7:30. When I woke up, I was not groggy. I have been happy, nay, I have been CHEERFUL! It's sick and wrong. I have eaten my breakfast, unloaded the dishwasher, started the laundry and washed my hair. It's only 9:30.

Hormones. Gotta love 'em.

Bah Humbug.

Christmas is coming. And I am far from Christmas cheer. I have a whole list of things to vent about. My cluttered "desk", my poor excuse of a bedroom, the half finished bedroom downstairs to eleviate the space issues we have, the fact that we haven't had grocery money in three weeks, but we don't qualify for food stamps. And after applying for medical assistance, we still have to pay $3000 in medical expenses, which we don't have. I haven't bought a single Christmas present yet. We got a $50 gift card from my husband's work dinner party and we used it for pull-ups and an itty bitty tree. I don't even know if Santa is going to come this year. My daughter told me she wrote a letter to Santa asking for an iPod and a three story barbie house. I told her that these things cost money. "Well that doesn't matter because SANTA is bringing it!!!" She practically chewed me out about it. I am torn between letting her live in her little fantasy world and filling her in on the truth. Although I think she may have an inkling that Santa is not all he's cracked up to be, perhaps that is why she is so defensive about it all.