I put up my Christmas decorations today, and it reminded me that I don’t really like Christmas all that much in the first place.

I think I was poisoned by volunteering as Santa’s Little Helper for so many years in a row.

I have decided that I will tell our kids right from the beginning that Santa is a hoax.  It’s just not worth it to me.  Yes, I was enraptured with all things Santa when I was a kid, but that doesn’t mean I want my children to feel the same joy I felt.  What have they done to deserve it?  Nothing.  They don’t even exist yet—at least, not on this earth.  No Santa for them.  And they’ll eat their dadgum broccoli, too!

I’m preparing now to be a really mean mom later.  Can you tell?

I think the majority of my Scroogishness is caused by the timing of Christmas during the lousiest part of the semester.  If all goes according to plan, I will be well out of school by the time I ever give birth (gah!) to a child, so maybe by then I will have the ability to try harder to be a nice mom.

I can’t make any promises, though—it’s just a theory.

The reason I bring this up now is because I spent many hours decorating my house for Christmas today, and it was exhausting.  I am sore from my head to my toes, because all that hauling of crap from basement to upstairs and unboxing and unpacking and up-and-down motion of putting ornaments on trees and positioning that dadgum star just right…it’s strenuous.  I feel strenned.  From the strain of it all.  To the point of no longer making sense (if, in fact, I ever made sense in the first place, which is doubtful).

Which means I’ll stop.

Now.

p.s.  It seems like I’m forgetting something…  Is it some sort of holiday today?  I am so out of touch up here in Canada—nobody tells me anything since I moved here, and TV doesn’t work and the internet doesn’t exist and phones freeze when they ring, so I have no way of knowing anything.  It isn’t easy living in a frozen tundra.

p.p.s.  My mother would rebuke me if she thought I really forgot about American Thanksgiving, and since she’s coming to visit me in two days and I don’t want to suffer through a harsh rebuking, I’d better say this: Happy American Thanksgiving.  We celebrated this holiday weeks ago (*yawn* Thanksgiving is so last month), so I don’t feel obligated to list off a whole slew of items I am thankful for.  After all, I only have so much thankfulness in my heart during any given season; I don’t believe in excessiveness.  But in the spirit of my former life, here are some thanks-inspired posts I have written in the past.  As for today?  I am thankful that Poor Kyle has finally learned to use just the right amount of Saran™ wrap to cover the leftovers; it used to be that he would use an entire yard of the stuff for a cereal-bowl amount of food.  That kind of excessive behaviour is unwelcome in my presence—like I said, I don’t believe in it.

Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

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