Up on the Housetop

I don’t do Black Friday shopping.  The absolute last thing that I want to do to prepare for the holiday season is to watch people treat other people poorly just to save a couple of dollars.  Black Friday shopping, with its pushing and shoving and whatnot is the antithesis of the holiday spirit.

Ruining a Thanksgiving by plotting an early morning (or late that day) shopping trip is not my idea of together time.

Instead it is my personal tradition to do all my Christmas decorating and to address all of my Christmas cards the day after Thanksgiving.   Ideally, Thing 1 and Thing 2 (my daughters), the Monkey King (or is that The Monkey King, my son), and my husband are all here.  We drink egg nog, listen to Christmas music, and try to convince the kids not to fight.

Unfortunately this year was not at all like that.  My husband had to work.  Thing 1 had her drivers’ license test (she passed which is great and awful at the same time).  Thing 2 had two friends who had spent the night.  The Monkey King was in full on puking mode, which led to a significant lessening in the amount of fighting but also led to a significant increase in the amount of cleaning I had to do.

Then there was the Thanksgiving dinner that we were having at our house.  I made a full Thanksgiving dinner the day after Thanksgiving for 12 people.  It turned out only 8 could attend, but I made it for 12.

So this year, instead of a picture perfect day of family time and egg nog and joyful decoration I had rushing and a crooked tree (oh, it’s up thanks to the use of child laborers – they were fed well for their efforts) and puking and a trip to the BMV and more puking.

It was a great day, do not misunderstand me.  I felt very grateful to my children and their friends and to my husband when he came home and made the gravy.

Unfortunately, my Christmas cards are still not done.  And try as I may, I cannot persuade myself to do them.  They are next to me now, staring with accusing eyes.  But now that I’ve missed my standard day for getting them done, addressing my cards feels like failure.  Everything else is more interesting, more important.  I’m doing all sorts of things instead of my Christmas cards.  In fact, right now, instead of doing my Christmas cards, I’m writing this blog.


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