Ah, the day after.

I should have relaxed. Instead, I cleaned like a maniac because at 9:00 a.m., whilst munching on a no-bake cookie and contemplating loafing on the couch doing a crossword puzzle, I saw the notice we'd received on Christmas Eve about apartment inspections occurring on December 26th and 29th. I cleaned like a maniac not because we would be found in violation of our lease agreement or because they'd discover massive amounts of mold in our bathroom but because I have this obsessive need for people to not see just how messy my home can get.

So I spent an hour and a half picking up clutter, shoving things in drawers, and barking at Beth to, and I'm paraphrasing, "...put the damn toys in. your. ROOM!" I also ran the vacuum, sucked out days-old food from the high chair, and hanging jackets in the hall closet. Then I filled a bucket with bleach and water and scrubbed the hell out of our bathroom and kitchen floors, cabinets and appliances. Then, and only then, could I feel free to get a shower and relax for 15 minutes. I just can't have perfect strangers think less of me and see an imperfect home. Even after cleaning, it still looked frightfully cluttered. Ugh.

So how was our Christmas, you ask? Not too shabby. My husband was the most excited of all of us on Christmas morning: he woke up at 5:15 a.m., asked me if I thought we should wake up Beth (to which I responded, "No. Go back to sleep!") and then got up, went to the bathroom, turned on the kitchen light, got a Coke, opened the front door to check for our newspaper, turned on the T.V. and then sat down and waited. Like no one would wake up after all that ruckus.

So then he decides he just can't wait any longer and wakes up Beth. I tell her that Santa had visited and she leapt off the couch, ran to the tree, grabbed the first present she found and started tearing into it! Thankfully, it was a gift for her, but it was very funny. Then, once she'd run through all the gifts, she started helping her brother and we discovered she was more excited about his gifts than hers. Nice. Oh well, at least she had a good morning.

The afternoon at my in-laws was okay. We were more or less ignored as we always are but we knew we would be going into it so it wasn't too big of a shock. She has her family over too, her brother and his brood, and there's eight of them all told, so they way outnumber us. Anyway, it was a nice day. The kids got lots of stuff and came away happy and tired.

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas too!

Sleigh bells ring, are ya listenin'?

So the kids are tucked away in their crib and bed, TV's on a country music channel playing Christmas music, tree's lit up, and hubby and I are playing Scrabble. Okay, we're not playing at the moment, but nature called so I'm seizing the opportunity to get in a Christmas blog. I know damn well I won't have a moment to breathe tomorrow so this is it until Friday.

Speaking of being busy, guess who was a one-armed paper-hanger today? This girl. In the morning, I cleaned up the living room and plucked through the youngins' toys to find stuff to give to the thrift store. Then I did two loads of laundry so we don't have to go to the family Christmas dinner in dirty clothes. Then we had lunch, followed by massive amounts of cookie baking. My first batch harvested approximately three dozen of these:



About two dozen of these:


And a partridge in a pear tree one tired mama:


We played absolute hell trying to convince Beth that if she didn't go to sleep, Santa wouldn't visit and bring her presents. I think she's smarter than your average bear: she kept refusing to go to bed, insisting on watching "Charlie Brown" (the Peanuts Christmas special we DVRd a few weeks ago). We'd remind her about Santa and how he doesn't visit little kids who are awake when he passes through town, and she'd admit she wanted him to stop, but then she'd say she wanted to stay up and watch TV.

But now she's in bed, snug as a bug. After that last paragraph, Rob came back out and we finished our game of Scrabble. Now he's watching "Bad Santa" and I'm blogging. Sleepy night here in Haytown. Tomorrow will be hell on wheels. Up with the kids, open gifts, eat breakfast, showers, dress the kids, gather the family gifts and cookies, head out on [what would be a 45-minute drive] an hour and a half's drive to the in-laws where we'll be until at least 6 p.m., possibly later, and then drive back home and try to get the kids to bed.

But I'm damn excited about it! For the first time in almost four years, my oldest finally gets Christmas and the whole Santa Claus thing. She's excited and hasn't stopped talking about Christmas since the week before Thanksgiving. And her excitement is contagious. I love kids.

"He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree."

~ Roy L. Smith

Something weird came over me today. I left the kids at home with Rob and I took off around 10:00 a.m. I was heading to Wal-Mart, Sears, and the grocery store. I picked up what I needed at Wal-Mart and headed out the door only to be met by a man soliciting for money for a miscellaneous cause that I didn't catch wind of. What I did catch was a twinge of guilt when I told him, "Sorry, I'm not carrying any cash today." The truth was, I really wasn't carrying cash. The guilt was for that very reason. I wanted to drop a buck in the locked box. Normally, I don't think twice about brushing off a solicitor. I never have the spare cash and I cynically assume that a portion of that money will go towards salaries. I realize, logically, that in most cases that simply isn't true, but I use it as justification for not coughing up fifty cents.

I felt even worse when he said, "Thank you anyway, have a nice day," and his voice carried that resignation and sarcasm. I was pushing a cart with a box of diapers, and three bags, two of which had gifts in it, a gift each for my step-nephews; how could I not have cash? Or maybe my guilt is manifesting this.

Then I get out to the car and as I'm climbing into the driver's seat, I look over across the cart corral and see a woman flipping open the top of a garbage can, collecting cans and bottles for recycling, probably to earn a few bucks for a meal. Any other day, I'd just go about my business, paying her no mind. What did I do today? I started digging around my floorboards for a bag to gather up our used bottles and cans, hoping to pass a quarter's worth of recycling on to her. By the time I realized I had no bag and only one can to offer, though, she was on to the next aisle.

My ten-minute drive to Sears was filled with an odd feeling. I could almost feel Christmas stirring my soul. I was smiling, I was singing at the top of my lungs, and all I wanted to do was finish running my errands so I could get home and figure out how to give this Christmas and from now on. We have a truckload of stuffed animals the kids don't play with that we'd like to donate, a bunch of old clothes, some toys. I guess I'll post most of them on Freecycle since no shelter will take used clothing or toys. I may also donate some old blankets and sheets to the local animal shelter. On Christmas Eve, we're going up to Antioch to help my father-in-law and stepmother-in-law feed the homeless and needy. They provide a huge, hot meal and hand out blankets and warm clothes, it's a really great thing they do.

It's just really strange that at a time when we have very little and are facing down a grim immediate future that all I want to do is give. Maybe it's because the shoe's on the other foot now and I'm seeing just how tough it can get. Or I've realized that I have so much more than a lot of people have: a healthy family, a roof over my head, food in the refrigerator, a car to take me places that isn't falling apart (actually, it kind of is but it's holding up nicely all things considered), and a place to go on Christmas.

I don't know...I always knew what the true meaning of Christmas was, I just never really felt it until this year. Then with all that soul-stirring going on, it made me wonder (again), if there isn't something to the whole belief thing. I don't know if I ever explained it in its entirety, but I was born and raised a Catholic - got confirmed and everything. Then I left the Catholic church in 1998 for the Church of Christ and was baptised in June 1999. Sometime over the next two years, however, I started to question my beliefs and found that I didn't really believe in the bible. I'd always taken it in stride, assumed it's truth because that's what I'd been taught: to believe and not to question. I got more into the science of man and evolution and whatnot...I declared myself Agnostic and have never looked back.

But with all that's been going on lately, and the random acts of kindness thrown our way - that I haven't blogged about because really, it's kind of personal - I can't help but wonder. My problem lies here: what do I do with the scientific facts that can't be explained away? Specifically, evolution? One time, in a discussion about evolution, Darwin, and pre-historic times, this transpired:

Rob: Well, if the bible is historical fact, then how do you explain dinosaurs?
Father-in-law: Well, maybe they just didn't exist.

How can you deny the existence of dinosaurs? Or evolution? I don't know. I'm pretty confused about the whole kit 'n caboodle. I guess that's part of life, right? To figure out what works for us and what doesn't?

Why?

So as we approach the end of the year and a pretty big crossroads in our life, Rob and I have discovered that in order to turn things around, you have to wade through a giant steaming pile of shit.

I really can't let on about what's going on. All you need to know at this point is that Christmas is looking really damn bleak. Our daughter is so excited about Christmas...every time we go to the store, she finds all the Christmas decorations and babbles on and on about Christmas and Santa Claus and presents and the trees. She got so excited about it, we ended up putting our tree up yesterday.



I want to be excited with her. I do. But I'm having a tough time of it. I hate to be such a downer but it really sucks when all the Christmas presents you were going to get her and her brother will have to wait until their next birthday or maybe just be a random gift some time next year. All they'll have is whatever the grandparents send. AARRRGGHH!

Damn company my husband used to work for. By hook or by crook, you found one more way to screw us over one last time.

Hopefully my Thanksgiving post will be a tad more happy. Hopefully.