Merry Christmas, moron

Letter from SantaIt’s been a crazy week.  I can handle a lot.  Too many things at once, though, cause me to have a freak out in the IKEA parking lot.  But that’s for another post.  Today is Christmas, time for happiness and joy and Norman Rockwell-esque tableaux of happy children opening simple wooden toys and smiling up at their adoring parents – dad smoking a pipe, mom wearing an apron.

Then there’s our house.

Parents staying up until 3am getting everything “just so” for Christmas morning.  Putting together the ugliest, most plastic-fantastic doll house ever made (Fiona loved it, of course).  Making sure we have enough batteries for the flying/wall climbing/night vision toys Jake asked Santa for.  Eating enough Christmas cookies to send us into comas.  Watching every Christmas episode of “Frasier” ever made.  Writing the notes from Santa and wondering if this will be the year that the kids notice the similarities between Mommy’s handwriting and Santa’s.

Praying that the kids will let us sleep in a little (8:10!  Our prayers were answered!)  Watching as they tear through gift after gift asking “What’s next?” like the over-indulged little monsters that they are (I don’t care, it’s Christmas).  Having to dole out a punishment when Jake addresses his sister as “moron” because good behavior can’t take a holiday.  Watching The Ass flood the kitchen floor – twice – when he fails to screw a very important piece onto the bottom of a toy.  Trying to explain to the disappointed kids that we will replace the big non-working gift as soon as the help line opens tomorrow morning.  Sitting on my hands as Fiona repeatedly refuses help putting together a Barbie hair salon the wrong way.

Realizing that since the dining room is filled with 1,400 pounds of IKEA cabinets flat-packed and precariously piled, we can’t get the dining room table out from the wall enough for all of us to sit down together for Christmas dinner.  Trying to find a pot big enough to boil the crab legs The Ass wanted instead of a turkey.  And of course, inevitably, watching the kids leave the new toys in a heap to go watch TV.

I love the chaos of Christmas.  I wouldn’t change it for anything.  I hope you’re having the kind of Christmas that fits your family.

Originally posted on Selfish Mom. All opinions expressed on this website come straight from Amy unless otherwise noted. Please visit Amy’s Full Disclosure page for more information.


  1. says

    Merry Christmas. I’m en route to CT and have the laptop out in the car. I’m taking some time to wish the moms at my favorite blogs a joyous day. Sounds like you are at peace with the choas that is modern motherhood! We have so much x17%$# in the car we look like homeless folks–which got me feeling weepy for all of our blessings. One of my blessing is having good, honest, bloggy pals like you.

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