Wow. Today I am so exhausted. I think I said that before, but...
It is amazing - next Monday, a week from today, my oldest daughter will become a teenager! (I did get a compliment at work from a student: "You don't look old enough to have a teenager!") When I think about her birthday, I think back to the day she was born. I'll save that story for next Monday. When her birthday rolls around, I know it is exactly two weeks before Christmas.
I have not even started shopping. NOT EVEN STARTED!!! I hate waiting until this late, but since I have been married to the Husband, we've always done this. I don't like it, but I 
do it.
do it. We don't have our tree up yet, either. When I was little, we used to put it up the day after Thanksgiving, no question. Now, we don't. I am disgusted with that. You see, it isn't entirely MY fault...the Husba
nd is very particular about The Tree. He has to be the one to assemble it. AND, he has to be the one to put the lights on. He must have 1000 lights, all clear, and they MUST be put just right, or it won't be acceptable. So, the kids and I leave the room while he does this. Before this takes place, however, the huge box must be drug down the stairs, which is no small feat. Sweat is dripping before the first limb of fir is out of the box. Then comes the box of ornaments. This box would be the same size as the box that holds the tree, since it is a box that an old tree was in years ago. Yes, that is how many ornaments we have. Way too many, if you ask me. Some should be discarded. But, then there is that twinge of guilt that slaps you in the face, reminding you of the sentimental value of the ornaments that you think should go. So, they stay - year after year, year after year. It is also a tradition that we started to buy the children a symbolic ornament each year, standing for whatever they are into at the time or the time period of their lives. May sound quacky, but we like it.
nd is very particular about The Tree. He has to be the one to assemble it. AND, he has to be the one to put the lights on. He must have 1000 lights, all clear, and they MUST be put just right, or it won't be acceptable. So, the kids and I leave the room while he does this. Before this takes place, however, the huge box must be drug down the stairs, which is no small feat. Sweat is dripping before the first limb of fir is out of the box. Then comes the box of ornaments. This box would be the same size as the box that holds the tree, since it is a box that an old tree was in years ago. Yes, that is how many ornaments we have. Way too many, if you ask me. Some should be discarded. But, then there is that twinge of guilt that slaps you in the face, reminding you of the sentimental value of the ornaments that you think should go. So, they stay - year after year, year after year. It is also a tradition that we started to buy the children a symbolic ornament each year, standing for whatever they are into at the time or the time period of their lives. May sound quacky, but we like it. I am in over my head with school work. I assigned this "wonderful" assignment and now I have 100 of them to grade. (Long story) I also should be preparing my final exams. That is a job in itself that I can't seem to tackle right now. The Husband is sick -it's his turn!
So, I'll get back to my chores, my responsibilities, my heavy load (whimper. cry. tear.). I have laundry going and must go pick up the boy from practice. Then dinner, then homework, then baths, then ironing, then...then...then...
1 comment:
Ahhhhhhhh, motherhood. What a joyous experience... (Sometimes.) :)
I also do that thing every year where I think I'm going to get rid of a tacky or raggedy ornament but then remember why I can't and I just wrap it back up and return it to the box.
Post a Comment