Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Survivor, Mommy Style

Out wit, out play, out last.

No, its not the latest Gilligan Island Lord Of The Flies with grown ups tv show, its parenting at Christmas time.

I don't know if its just my home, or if its a common parenting phenomanon, but the kids behaviour the last few weeks leading up to the holidays are enough to single handedly explain why drinking is so associated with the holidays. Good tidings my fat butt...its an attempt to keep from killing the kids.

Not even the threat/promise of the fat dude in the suit with toys is enough to modify the behaviour of the Stepford Heathens. Nope. I was 'talking' to Santa tonight, telling him how Tazzie wasn't going to bed nicely...and Tazzie sat on the landing laughing at me. I kid you not. Tazzie, for those who aren't aware, isn't even 4 yet.

What is it about the holidays that turns children into demon spawn? I mean, seriously, folks. I'd NEVER be one to claim model behaviour children, they're far too busy for that kind of nonsense, but normally, they're not sent from the bowels of Hades for the sole purpose of tormenting their innocent mother.

*listens to doors slamming, feet pounding, yelling from the bedroom area*

I've never understood the objection to duct tape. Seems a fine idea.

So does the Baileys in the cupboard...

But, since I have a mountain o'crud to accomplish, and no idea how its gonna get done (how the heck do you wrap gifts with one incredibly stupid, swollen, and painful hand? I'll let you know, but I'm guessing the answer is, "You wrap crappy.") I'll take this moment to wish everyone a Merry Christmas.

I'll be the one either passed out drunk under the tree with ribbon up my nose and wrapping paper in my ears, or heavily sedated in a locked facility.

Or...I'll post again. Place your bets now!