I Hate Christmas

No, I suppose I don't really. But I hate all the getting ready and going places, and always arriving two hours late. I hate whining and tugging and missed nap times. We're supposed to be going to my mom's house this morning. We were going to spend Christmas Eve there and have Christmas at home together as a family. We planned to leave two hours ago. Of course, there was wood that wasn't brought in, dishes that hadn't been done, floors that hadn't been swept, poopy diapers that needed to be changed--multiple times--cookies that hadn't been baked. I just feel really tired. When we were about to walk out the door an hour ago, Jacob grabbed the tracfone and found it hadn't been charged. It's been snowy, so we can't leave without it. So the phone is currently charging and he is currently at his friend's house. Waiting for it to charge, I suppose. And I'm trying to stave off nap time for my poor, whining little boy who is resting his head on my arm and fussing even as I type. Oh, and we have to stop at the store and get some stocking stuffers on our way out of town because we had a blizzard roll in when Jacob was going to go to Albuquerque yesterday. You don't drive on the 40 in a blizzard. You will probably die, because truckers continue to drive their massive trucks at 80 mph even in windy blizzards. Yeah, there is a massive, multi-car pile-up every time it snows. You'd think they'd learn. So, there you go. And all the time, I'm sort of loathing tomorrow because I know I'm going to have to cook a big turkey or ham dinner, with all the dishes and mess that accompany big dinners. It's so fun being a mom.

Yay. Christmas.