Well…it’s been a while since I had a chance to sit down and write.   After the disappointing end to baseball season (SO PLEASED FOR THE KC ROYALS!)  we were off to Boulder, CO  to visit our older son and celebrate Thanksgiving and now…it’s three weeks til Christmas and I can’t be bothered to care – much.  Seriously.

First let me say that I can’t wait for both of my kids to be home and in the house with us!  That’s the most fun…their youthful energy and humor wakes up our house and keeps us laughing!   I love every minute of that.

What I am finding that I like less and less is the decorating of the house, the shopping for gifts for everyone and the proverbial Christmas meal planning.   Mainly because I have to do all of this.   Therefore, it is my humble opinion that Santa Claus is a woman…not a fat old man.

My husband will take offense stating his assistance with getting the tree up  and the lights outside working.   And he does do those things.  But that’s pretty much it.  I even have to help him with his gift to me!

I would love to see him have to spend time thinking of gifts for his children, our extended families, our six god children and their families PLUS think of where the decorations are going to go, and plan where and with whom we will eat.

Forget about going out to buy said food/gifts…mail them to the appropriate people and OH lets not forget the holiday card.   He doesn’t do ANYTHING to help with that – save posing for the family photo.   Shutterfly?  What’s that?

I don’t mean for this to be a husband bashing post at all.  In fact it makes me laugh to think of my poor, hapless husband trying to think of what to buy for his great nephew and niece, both under the age of 6.  He would go to the store and call me 4-5 times to ask me my opinion on what to buy.  I am sure he is like so many other men who are clueless.  Women are the engines of the American Christmas Express.  And that is a fact.  St. Nicholas must forgive me.

And perhaps we do it to ourselves.  I know my motivations were my kids when the were small…wanting the “magic” of the season to stay with them as they grew.  And when they were small it was truly magical, waking up on Christmas morning and seeing their sweet little faces so full of excitement and wonder.   But now, at 24 and 20 we are hard pressed to get those sweet, stubbly faces out of bed before noon.  Presents or no.   So why continue the efforts?   Is it just habit?

I blame two things….adult children and lack of estrogen.   My adult children have no children of their own yet – as they shouldn’t.  But grown kids are so much less fun to surprise on Christmas and they don’t want cute toys anymore, they want $300.00 head phones by Dr. Dre.  or a clothes steamer (really?)  What happened to the days of the Power Rangers “mega-ninja-falcon-zord?” (say that fast three times).  Or Thomas the Tank Engine?

No estrogen?   No problem!  Just don’t ask me to care. About anything remotely maternal.   This includes Christmas and all it’s accoutrements. It’s appalling really.   “Cook your own damn roast”  and “Here’s a wonderful gift card”   because I cannot bring myself to care about getting you  a thoughtful gift.  LOL!  Maybe when I do have grandchildren it will go back to being magical.   I pray that it is.

Christmas is supposed to be a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ and as a Christian I want to celebrate this Holy Day.   But I think we often lose the true meaning in all of the hustle and bustle and worrying about gifts and food.   We think more on ourselves than the birth of Christ.   As I get older I think this becomes the issue.   After years and years of doing the planning, shopping, sending, cooking, I want someone else to take the reins so I can ponder the true meaning instead of worrying about lumpy gravy.

But alas…until a daughter in law comes along who I can pass my Santa crown on to…I will have to persevere.