A Very Special Christmas Update

RD edit: In this post I said I was having a girl, but it turns out I was one of the lucky few to have an incorrect ultrasound reading, and I had a boy instead. His name is "E" and we all think he rocks!

This post is intended as an update, but I am afraid it may mutate into a rant on Christmas before I am finished. If anyone here is having all those warm, fuzzy holiday feelings right now, fantasizing about opening gifts with loved ones around a blazing fireplace while the snow gently falls into beautiful drifts outside, I suggest you leave now. Your overly sentimental Hallmark attitude, mocking me with "Glad Tidings of Comfort and Joy," is not welcome here.

So before I spiral off into a full-scale holiday assault, let me get to that update. School is out for a few weeks (yay!). I took my last final on Tuesday, and it looks like I did decent this semester. Also, for those that didn't get my bulletin, we found out last week that we are having another girl at the end of March. I'm really starting to look pregnant, and not just fat, so I that's a plus.

On to the holiday happenings (and the last chance for all you "holly jolly" types to cut and run). Last week, S put up our Christmas tree, no that's not really accurate, I think the more fitting term for it would be "pitiful shrub." Our "tree," which I can only deduce is missing its bottom tier, stands at a whopping three feet tall. After we put up the lights, I couldn't even attempt to decorate it without bursting out into laughter (and subsequent uncontrollable sobs). Instead, we simply topped it with one of the most comically tacky angels I have ever laid witness to.

For the purpose of this piece, I'll call her "Heloise." Heloise, who is around 6 inches tall, is a hand-me-down, like the rest of our decorations. She is bedecked in an oversized red robe with a curling black ribbon cinched at the waist. The look is made complete with a pair of huge gold lamè wings, and two blinking lights, one under her skirt and another clasped in her hands. Now, this is going to come off cruel and inappropriate, but aside from her innocent face, she looks more like the dark angel of Lucifer than a messenger of the Lord.

Starting to get a mental image of the family Christmas Tree? I would put up a picture for visual documentation, but I don't think I could stomach the relentless ridicule that would most assuredly follow. At this point, the beer can pyramid at the local frat house is starting to look more festive.

In addition to the tree, I have done no Christmas shopping, that's right, zilch. I have been way too caught up with school to even consider it, and I'm so not looking forward to sifting through what's left over with all of the rest of the holiday slackers this week. It makes my brain freeze up just thinking about it.

K will not be getting a photo with Santa this year, either. And I know what you're thinking, but it's not because I am an uncaring Scrooge. Rather, because she is absolutely and completely terrified of the famous fat man in red. The simple mention of his name pushes her to the edge of hysteria. Each time someone innocently asks, "And what is Santa bringing you for Christmas?" sheer horror fills her eyes and she clings to me as if they have just threatened to abduct her. Fun times.

In addition to the listed grievances, I have an important weather-related comment on the impending holidays. Anyone planning to sip hot chocolate or don a fuzzy red sweater in the next week is out of his/her freakin' mind: it's 70 degrees outside, people! K and I went to the Zoo yesterday, and there were people actually walking around in the heat with toboggans and winter jackets on! I am utterly confused as to how this kind of delusional hopefulness was not phased out through natural selection centuries ago. I realize that the "Ideal Christmas" includes Jack Frost and his nose-nippery, but no amount of wishing or layering clothing is going to change the weather. Maybe it will snow, maybe it won't, let's all dress appropriately until then, shall we?

Aside from all the hum-bug crankiness, I must say that I am excited about being able to spend some time with the family next week, as cheesy and clichè as it sounds, that really is what it's all about. And I'm sorry if I've rained on anyone's Christmas lights with this post. Next year, I can get tanked on spiked eggnog and rejoice in the magical joys of the season like everyone else. For now, though, you better keep that mistletoe the hell away from me.

Merry Freakin' Christmas To All,
RD