My rather attractive husband apparently believes in Santa and this may be the year I stab him with a candy cane.
There’s mere hours until Christmas, we have four kids plus one, and we host Christmas Eve. For umpteen years, the same Christmas carol song and dance. Plus we buy for E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E. in whoville. Actually, we pull names for my in-laws, but there’s six of them, and well, six of us, so do the math.
For my side, we only buy for the kids, of whom there are 7, and for those adults sans kids. A few aunts and uncles. Couple neighbors. And the grandparents. Always the grandparents.
Which is the way I like it. If only there were a Santa. Amazon definitely has been a game changer for the better, and if elfing had the same prestige as knighting, I’d elf that company. And maybe Cracker Barrel too.
On Christmas morning – I shit you not – my rather attractive yet dumb as a rock husband will be awe inspired by the kid’s gifts, and not smart enough to shut up about it.
“Kate – look at that! Wow!”
He’s not faking. He is authentically surprised. And it’s all I can do not to tinsel his sorry ass.
Did I see it?
I found it, dumbass.
All of it.
Bought it.
Loaded it into the car.
Took it out of the car. Carried it up two flights of stairs.
Broke my back pulling down the attic stairs and launched the beasts into the attic.
Then took them down from the attic, removed all packaging, boxes and bags á la Grinch style. To make it all nice and pretty for Christmas morning.
Then I secured in construction style black garbage bags to shield snooping eyes from the glory beneath. Relaunched and heaved into the attic.
All between buses, sick kids, sports, deadlines, and the dreaded early dismissal from school.
Times 4. Or 5. Plus extended family which thankfully eliminates the hide-factor, but adds greatly to the shopping “find it” factor.
It’s me.
It’s the mom. Every mom, every year.
I am surprised that year after year, my darling husband seems to think Christmas just happens like some made-for-tv movie or pathetic Kay Jewelry commercial. It doesn’t.
It’s a job. Hard, frustrating work that comes a huge payday. A little like childbirth: I swear, never ever again, complain relentlessly, but do it regardless.
I am forever pleased by the smiles and giggles and oohs and ahhs of kids, family and friends, which I sign up, again and again, year after year. And complain about it, but love it just the same.
But believe me: there is no Santa, and I have the backache and bills to prove it.
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Still laughing..this is the third time I’ve read it through. I think it helps that I can picture all of you in my minds eye! Have a wonderful Christmas. We loved the Christmas card, can’t believe you are so organized as to get them out before Christmas. Or wait, did Santa do those too?
Well…..at least there’s a smartass too.
And a smokin’ hot couple you are!
Speaking of which IMYA(s)
XO
Isn’t it funny how the men get out of doing all of that? I made my boyfriend help me wrap some of the gifts and you would have thought I asked him to chop wood. If there is reincarnation, I want to come back as a man who’s wife does everything for him…whouldn’t that be the life?
A-frickin’-MEN! That’s all I can say to this!
But we do it again, year after year! WHY?
It IS like childbirth, LOL!! Great post.
thx kim! childbirth days OVER, but many more xmases to come!
Haha – great post. This year, I ACTUALLY fell asleep STANDING UP in the middle of putting out the “Santa gifts”. (This was 11:30pm, after entertaining 25 friends and family all night.) My cat came over and I picked her up. She started purring, and I put my head on her fur, and before I knew it, my husband was waking me up. (Did he take pity on me and offer to help? No. But he HAD cleaned all the dishes.)
Mind you, he has ONE person to buy for each year, and he STILL forgot to fill my stocking until the next day. But whatever. I have low expectations after 20 years of marriage. I filled mine myself.
My BFF texted me the next day that “Santa” rocked it again this year, and I agreed. We decided that when our kids finally ask us if Santa exists, we’re going to tell them that it’s really not a jolly old man in a red suit that comes down the chimney, but a red hot mama who delivers the goods!
Go us. And happy new year!
Michelle Girasole
http://www.TheSassyLadies.com
LOL about the Kay commercials! Have you noticed the guy gives his wife a different gift every time? Sometimes it’s a watch. Sometimes it’s bracelet. We’re always like “What’s she going to get this time?” 🙂
Merry Christmas and I’ve been meaning to tell you I like your blog!
Anna
http://www.acozylittleblog.com
Oh my can I relate! I also am a return to work mom & work just as hard on my blog! Let’s stay in touch! You can find me at http://www.myskinconcierge.blogspog.com
Ahhh, me and my kids agreed not to exchange gifts this year. Ahhh so stress free and relaxing and still have money in January. Like your blog-Claire King
I wish I knew how to comment after each comment! Thx for the support; glad to know ‘mine’s not the only one: that it’s clearly genetic. But here’s the hitch: he undid xmas. ALL of it: the boxes and bobbles and bags. Done. Tree: gone. Even vacuumed. A little public humiliation goes a long way!