Humbug

Holy crap, am I ever not in the mood for the holidays. If it wasn't for my husband I wouldn't even have the tree up. Hell, he decorated it, too. My poor kids. They go around trying to sing Christmas songs with me and I get as far as "deck the halls... here why don't I put on a record that sings these things to you? Yeah"  I'm ready to ruin Santa for my seven year old out of sheer laziness. Who can keep up this lie?!? "That's not Santa, that's just some guy in a suit and I'm just not sure if Santa exists because it just seems impossible." I have to commend her for being leery of old guys dressed in costumes for lap sitting. I'm kind of proud of her for that, but just as I'm about to go "Congratulations! You've seen through this sham! Your prize is a present form the present closet" In comes my husband with "Oh, those are Santa's helpers. Didn't you know that? That's how Santa gets to so many houses, he has lots of helpers. Oh, and mommy called Santa and had him deliver your presents early!" "Does Santa have the same wrapping paper as us? Because I saw that paper in your closet. Did we share it with him?" "Why, yes! We did. We wrapped presents together" Nice one honey. It'll take me years to undo that. Well, probably not. She wants to believe, but she's pretty sharp. I can tell she's ready to just call b.s., but might be afraid of a present deficiency if she does, so hey! Santa!
 I am dragging ass this year. At least I got Christmas cards out on time this year which is a definite improvement for me. Most of my cards make it sometime in the new year because I'm a timely person. Procrastinators Unite! or something sometime later.
Christmas is just a few days away and with the husband away it's going to look something like this "Oh, hey, you guys are up. Here, have a pop tart and let me fetch your stockings out of my closet" Festive. Hey, I'm wearing reindeer pajama pants, that should be festive enough.
And don't get me started on what happens after Christmas. Our anniversary, my birthday, new years. Waahahaaa! Can't I just curl up and do nothing? I want to be slacker mom, dammit! Oh, right. I am. How about neglectful mom? Dammit, I just can't win.