Five Things I Hate About the Christmas Season

If you're reading this, I can come to one of two conclusions: a.) either the Mayans were wrong and the world did not in fact end on December 21st, 2012, or b.) you are the last person on earth and have chosen to read this blog instead of pillaging and looting and surviving and things because it is just that awesome.*

*I'm guessing that "a" is probably the correct answer, but whatever.

I'm glad there are only a few more days left until Christmas. I love the holidays and all, but the truth is, they exhaust me - especially now that I have kids. Things that didn't bother me pre-children are coming out of the woodwork to bug me now. Here, in no particular order, are the top five:

The threatening. I get tired of saying "no" all the other months of the year, so in December I switch it up to, "Remember, Santa can see you being naughty." But even with the switch, it still gets old after saying it 3,042 times a day. It's even worse since Coby, every time he does something wrong, has taken to wailing dramatically, "Now I'll never get Christmaaaaaaas!"

The Elf on the Shelf. I'm sure you've seen it by now. It's this cheeky little fellow:


Apparently he's poseable and your kids are supposed to find him making mischief in a different way each morning, like he was up to no good while they were sleeping. And that's all fine and dandy if you're the kind of mom who can keep up with that for a month straight, but, well ... I'm not that kind of mom. I know, horrible. It kind of makes me feel like crap because every day on Facebook I see no fewer than four photos of clever little elves arranged in adorably mischievous situations (making flour "snow angels" on kitchen counters, gift-wrapping the toilet, lounging in a dollhouse bathtub full of marshmallows), and all I can think of is how tiring that would be, year in and year out, and how I don't need any more things to clean up because I have a surplus as it is. Look, if you're the Elf on the Shelf kind of mom, I'm not knocking you. I'm just jealous because you're talented at making wonderful holiday memories for your kids and I'm not. And sad that my kids are probably going to end up on Jerry Springer because of my pitiful lack of holiday engagement. It's pretty much just a kick in my elf - er, self-esteem.

Christmas cards. I enjoy getting them because they make the front of my fridge all festive, but on some level, they're another holiday reminder of how much of a slacker I am. Especially the kind with the "yearly update" letters inside. They are always glowing reports of a wonderful year, and angelic kids. Mine would be like, "... and Coby is well on his way to learning not to wipe his butt with his brother's toothbrush! ... We hope." But I don't have to worry about what to write because I don't send Christmas cards. Never have. Never will. What's the use? I am the type of person who means well, but never manages to finish. Case in point: the twenty-plus handwritten, addressed-just-not-stamped thank you notes I have yet to send ... from my baby shower in April.

Pinterest. This is a brand-newbie on the list, since I just discovered Pinterest this year. I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love getting new ideas, but hate it when they remain just that: ideas. And it seems like around the holidays, there's all kinds of awesome Christmas-themed things to make and do and display. If I were as awesome as I feel like I should be, and actually did all the stuff I drool over on Pinterest, I'd have a Martha Stewart-y Christmas feast complete with like six scrumptious desserts and decor that looked straight out of the pages of "Perfect Home" magazine. Instead, I'm cooking up my Walmart ham and hoping my dinner guests don't mind scalloped potatoes from a box and shooing cats out of my pitiful, saggy Christmas tree.

The Salvation Army kettles. Now before you go clutching your pearls in horror at how stingy and Scrooge-ish I am, let me say this: I myself have been one of those volunteers, stationed in front of the store with my little red Salvation Army bucket, ringing the bell to solicit donations. It's a great cause. But see, here's the thing. They come out right after Thanksgiving and are around until Christmas. And I swear they are at everysinglestore, at least in my area. And every single store entrance and exit, times the number of trips I make in a month, equals ... a whole lotta donations. At first I try to drop something in the kettle every time I pass one. Then after I've given like fifty bucks in quarters, I realize that hey, I've still got a budget to stick to. So then I start passing by the kettles without dropping anything in, and that's when I feel like the world's biggest asshole because OMG, who could just walk right by? Especially when the bell-ringer is all, "Merry Christmas!"

So there you go: some of the things that bug me about "the most wonderful time of the year." But it's all good, because despite the way it sounds, I really do love Christmas time for the most part.

As long as I don't have to, you know, do much.


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