I mucho disliko Christmas.
I dislike the clutter of putting up and then taking down decorations within a month's time. Idislike abhor the shopping. I dislike the fretting over whether my children will be satisfied with what Santa brings them. I dislike the busyness. I dislike feeling like I have to make every second of the season so special.
As a result of these feelings, I do not engage in any type of Christmas tomfoolery.
Though I wish G didn't have anxiety, at Christmas I am happy for it because he is terrified of the elf-on-the-shelf. He thinks they are weird and creepy and would throw an absolute duck-fit if I even considered bringing one into our house.
This is a win-win for me because I don't want to spend money on one, and I definitely don't want to have to think up activities for the elf that involve additional clutter and mess-making. Some moms have gotten to the point where the elf has a broken leg and can't move. I suspect my rage would somehow land the elf with a butter knife shoved in his gut.
However, this year, G set me a task that I did feel like I needed to address in a somewhat creative way.
He and his siblings wrote letters to Santa, which are answered by our local township/city, but he had included a very specific question in his letter. The fine folks who respond to the hundreds, and maybe even thousands of letters from kids, do not have the time, money, or patience to answer my son's specific question.
So I did.
Here was his question to Santa:
And here is how Santa responded:
Writing creatively while sitting on my butt....I can do.
I dislike the clutter of putting up and then taking down decorations within a month's time. I
As a result of these feelings, I do not engage in any type of Christmas tomfoolery.
Though I wish G didn't have anxiety, at Christmas I am happy for it because he is terrified of the elf-on-the-shelf. He thinks they are weird and creepy and would throw an absolute duck-fit if I even considered bringing one into our house.
This is a win-win for me because I don't want to spend money on one, and I definitely don't want to have to think up activities for the elf that involve additional clutter and mess-making. Some moms have gotten to the point where the elf has a broken leg and can't move. I suspect my rage would somehow land the elf with a butter knife shoved in his gut.
However, this year, G set me a task that I did feel like I needed to address in a somewhat creative way.
He and his siblings wrote letters to Santa, which are answered by our local township/city, but he had included a very specific question in his letter. The fine folks who respond to the hundreds, and maybe even thousands of letters from kids, do not have the time, money, or patience to answer my son's specific question.
So I did.
Here was his question to Santa:
And here is how Santa responded:
Writing creatively while sitting on my butt....I can do.
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