Call Me Mrs. Grinch

I'm a bad banana with a greasy black peel. Mr. Grinch has nothing on me.

The Christmas season is in full swing and I am just not quite feeling the cheer this year. The thought of all the Christmas shopping I have yet to do is not helping the mood either. I know my story is not anything compared to all of the sad stories out there. Jason was just watching the Jimmy V Classic and it really made me feel selfish for being sad. People deal with much worse and I really need to remember that. But, sometimes a pity party seems inescapable and I've been an attendee of this party since October 21st. I may have left a few times, but I'm always showing back up. Tissues in hand and a puffy face that would only be acceptable at this type of party. What makes me return? The presence of a pregnant woman, a baby sighting, a quiet moment that allows me too much time to think, or taking a peek into my memory box that holds some precious sonogram photos and other mementos. They all bring me back to this party that only has one guest. Pretty pathetic party I guess.

I did decide it was time to do some Christmas decorating. After 6 years in this house, we finally bought Christmas lights for our house. We spent a good part of our Sunday working on putting them up. I stood on the ground watching Jason nervously on the roof, hoping he would not decide to do one of his impressions of Clark Griswald while he was up there. (He did fall off a ladder one time putting up lights at my parent's house, so I had reason for concern.) Now our house will be emitting all kinds of Christmas cheer that may not be equally represented by one of the people in it, but I'm determined to try. Even the Grinch ends up celebrating Christmas with all the Whos in Whoville.