Week 12, day something. Thursday. Story time at the library day.
My mom has asked me to put together a few Christmas lists so she can get her shopping over with and presents sent out. I told her I don’t care what kind of noisy-ass toys she buys my kids as long as they’re small. Our entryway has become an unofficial playroom. I swear. In it, we have a table and chair set, a big honkin’ artists easel, a plastic beauty salon complete with a plastic chair, a Dora shopping cart and a tricycle. NO MORE BIG STUFF! We have run out of room. One more huge toy and I’ll be forced to make a trip to the Salvation Army, which I ought to do anyway because my kids have a lot of stuff as it is. Spoiled? Yes. But not yet rotten. So sue me.
Mia is naturally drawn towards "boy" things; it would be funny but this is a stage that’s lasted over a year and she shows no signs of growing out of it. I missed having my little "girl"–my dress-wearing, doll-playing, semi-dainty mama’s girl. Mia will tell anyone who will listen that SHE IS A BOY. And not just a boy, a stinky boy, she says. And to describe her as a "tomboy" is an understatement by far. She wants nothing to do with traditional girl’s toys and instead just naturally gravitates towards Spider-man figurines and Diego paraphanelia. At Halloween she had no desire to dress as a princess, or a fairy, or even a witch. It was all I could do to get her to not be a Ninja-Turtle. She’s super active and she loves sports and playing rough. It’s cute, and I don’t dare try to change it, but…
Did we go overboard in the beginning? Trying so hard to not have a super-uber-feminine-cry-baby child that we made her be just the opposite?
I wonder what the next one will be like. If it’s a boy, will I try so hard to make him NOT grow up to be pig/jerk/asshole that he’ll be wearing dresses before he’s 5? This raising kids stuff is hard.
It’s cold here; my body is in shut-down mode. I don’t want to move–don’t want to get out of my cozy jammies, out from under my cozy blanket…hot chocolate and cookies appeal to me a whole hell of a lot more than a nutritious salad does. I’m cranky. The very thought of going for my daily walk makes me sleepy–rather than put on my sneakers and hitting the pavement, I’m hopping into a nice hot bath and settling down for the evening. I’d make a great bear. I could hibernate like nobody’s business. The fact that it’s dark at 5:30 doesn’t help; thank God the time change only lasts until early March this year.
Watched "Elf" last night for no reason. Maybe I’m just too eager for Christmas. I can’t remember exactly who said this; but somebody I know doesn’t like Elf. I’m sure I love that person, but seriously? You don’t like Elf? Have you no soul?
But back to all things Christmas–I’m so ready. I’d get a tree right now if it would last 2 months…but who am I kidding? I like to leave those suckers up until the end of January. So it’d have to be a three-monther. I want to get the lights out, and the glittery ornaments out of their boxes. I already have the kids’ presents (fairly small presents, mind you) safely wrapped. I’m itching to bake cookies. I know we have Thanksgiving to get through before I should even begin to think of this kind of stuff, but I just can’t help it.
And now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to hightail it to the public Library. Gotta go.