What can I say? It's the holidays. The absolute worst time to keep up a blog, for me anyway; however, one would think the holidays would give me plenty of fodder to fill each day with new antics of a dysfunctional family. I guess my immediate family just isn't that dysfunctional. Our family events are relatively uneventful.
Now, when my mother's side of the family used to get together for the holidays... Now, there's a book that could write itself. One schizophrenic (maybe two), a druggie, a recovering alcoholic and ex-convict, a meth-head (recovering?), a pedophile, two welfare mommies, unknown quantities of illegitimate children, two bipolars "and a partridge in a pear tree." If my Southern gay cousin had ever made it to these holidays, we would have fulfilled our holiday fruits and nuts requirement. Ah, the good ole days.
My time currently is being spent rushing around frantically trying to make this holiday memorable for my son so his head can be filled with false memories of what a good childhood he had. Unfortunately, these machinations usually end up becoming more traumatic memories for him than happy, with me screaming at him that he is using too much glue on his crafts and wasting glitter. Ah, the holidays. Add to this stress the fact that I'm putting in as much overtime as I can at work while trying to intersperse my time with these "precious moments." As if that isn't stressful enough, my husband and I have absolutely no time to practice music for my niece's wedding that is coming up the first weekend in January in which I will yet again have a happy reunion with all my husband's ex's who will undoubtedly be scrutinizing every thing I do. MERRYYYYYY CHRISTMASSSSSS!!! (Happy Holidays, for those of you who are easily offended).
Tomorrow I take the yearly trek downtown with my son to get a picture of him with Santa Claus, which probably isn't going to happen this year because evidently with all the threats of naughty and niceness, he believes Santa Claus is just one big tease and he has absolutely no interest in meeting with the jolly fellow.
"Aren't you excited about Santa Claus coming."
"Well, not really."
"What?!"
"Not really because he'll just tease me."
Okay...I guess we'd better lay off the whole coal-in-the-stocking bit. Not that that really works. Since my son is so into trains, he actually WANTS coal in his stocking. Add to that the fact that he is still on Halloween. Everything is "this is the best Halloween Christmas party ever!" I wish I had a sense of time like that.
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