So Christmas was fun for the kids this year. My youngest was so excited for Santa to visit, she understands the concept and had no problem opening presents and waiting her turn. The older kids I think liked what they got. Although their angle seemed to be interest in the big ticket items like x-box games or in my oldest daughter's case a brand new sewing machine.
No one commented on the fact that there were no gifts for my husband or myself this year. Something that I said over and over wasn't a big deal but really it was. No matter how many times I cheerfully said that the bathroom working again was our gift this year, in my head I wasn't buying it.
It stinks to not have any real surprises during a holiday that you love so much. I'm not dwelling on it but I just need to say this, MAJOR SUCKAGE.
There were no notable bad gifts. I think for the first time ever. Well, I take that back. My youngest got an electronic piggy bank from my Brother-In-Law. He told me it was to save money for her red convertible. Then he proceeded to stick a fist full of pennies into it.
In other news, our new tenants are complainers. I guess I'm not surprised. Hearing about how cold it gets in the winter in a drafty 100 year old house is one thing, but actually living in said drafty old house is an entirely different thing. It's not like we are having a heat party upstairs. It's cold everywhere in the house and unless I crank the heat up to 80+ degrees (which won't be happening), it is never ever going to reach that toasty warmy goodness that they had in their apartment building. NevAH.
Heck, it's only December. We've got three more months of it before it turns around. Yeah, so that's not fun.
I think this is the year that my parent officially drive me OVER THE EDGE. It's very hard to sit through a lovely Christmas turkey dinner and listen to how my mother is so depressed because her house won't sell and she's having nightmares. So my dad booked them for the summer vacation reunion up in New Hampshire, so she would have something to look forward to. Then when you mention said vacation, to be happy about it, you get shot down because really it's nothing exciting.
While your brother, who is also depressed, because he hates where he lives. Apparently when he went to wish others a Merry Christmas, everyone he talked to was unhappy about it. I know, this is ridiculous, but not when you base your life on how each and every person you meet treats you.
I believe the worst part of the whole thing was listening to my brother say how when he sees the woman who lives downstairs, in the parking lot, she stops him and asks him (and I quote) "Where the hell are you going?".
To which my dad then proceeds to suggest to my brother, that he attempt to look out into the parking lot and check for this woman before he leaves. That way if he sees her, he can avoid her completely.
At this point, I have to jump in and say, "Why don't you just keep on walking and ignore her completely because WHO FUCKING CARES."
Alright, I left out the profanity but this situation is one of many I firmly believe that my brother makes up so that my parents can fret over it and give him advice that he is a) never going to take, b) is not helping him learn to deal with difficult people (which btw, make up almost entirely the population of where he lives) and c) is unrealistic.
Needless to say, I'm thankful that the next visit from them won't be until February for my birthday.
In other, other news, that whole work deal is still out there on the horizon. Pass me the xanax, will ya?