Something really strange is happening to me as I get older. I can't even watch someone jump on a trampoline without peeing all over myself.
But that's probably a conversation best had with my doctor.
The other thing that's happening is that I'm losing my holiday spirit.
It all started with Halloween. It was exhausting. Schlepping the kids around town in their big awkward costumes, glitter glue from pumpkin crafts that seemed to multiply every time I tried to clean it, and the candy... oh the candy.
Every day digging deep within my soul for the will power not to eat every piece in the house before Halloween even got here but doing it anyway.
Slow at first, like a piece every half hour, but before I knew it I was playing a game with myself called, “I Wonder If I Can Beat The World Record For The Most Mini Twix Stuffed Into A Human Mouth At The Same Time” and two hours later I walked, defeated and bloated, back into the grocery store to replenish the supply.
That happened three times that I remember.
Thanksgiving is just a few weeks away. And now that I'm older I've finally been able to see this holiday for what it really is – a big load of crap.
I mean, I don't know... maybe some of you like spending an entire day slaving in a kitchen cooking for 23 people, a responsibility that, P.S., comes with the added bonus of watching my epidermis melt off my hands as I scrub turkey fat off a pan in scalding water while the men sit in the other room drinking beer and watching football.
And the next day marks the official beginning of the Christmas season. My sister and I wake up before God to fight a huge crowd of rabid shoppers so we can save three dollars on a VCR.
I've done this ritual every year and I never even have the slightest clue what I'm shopping for. I just sprint through the aisles of Wal-Mart punching people in the face and grabbing stuff out of their hands.
The one big positive I have found with Christmas is that it gives me an opportunity to manipulate my kids into being good. Some people use Elf on the Shelf... I prefer a more unorthodox little diddy about Santa Claws, Santa Claus' mutant older brother. I've found it works particularly well at bedtime and right before walking into the grocery store.
I know what you're thinking. That I should be happy for the bounty of blessings I've been given – a big happy, healthy family to share the holidays with. And I am blessed. But I feel like therein lies my problem. All these holiday things that require me to do stuff get in the way of enjoying my good time with all my little blessings. Suddenly the holidays just seem like so much work.
Maybe this year I should just order a pizza, make a donation to a homeless shelter and be done with it. Or maybe I just need a Midol and some more mini Twix.
By Hannah Mayer, events and family life blogger for SmartParenting
Hannah Mayer is a nationally award-winning blogger, humor columnist and exponentially blessed wife and mother of three. She would trade everything for twelve uninterrupted hours in a room with Jon Hamm and two Ambien. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram or at her blog, sKIDmarks.
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