Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Ice Cream Visions and Nog
What a strange, strange night. You ever fall asleep on the couch only to find yourself draped half on the floor, mumbling and sweating in the land of Nod - waking only to know for certain that your dreams were intense and epic , however you can't remember a goddamned thing. That was at 4:30 this morning, and this perverse feeling that I've missed something important is still lingering. Of course, my first order of business upon waking was to make a delicious ice cream sundae. It obviously makes everything better.
So I awake, for the second time today, to the Youngling at my bedside, chocoloate syrup bottle in hand, demanding chocolate milk. "Ok, ok" I mumble, collecting my thoughts and mourning the empty ice cream carton "Go get a diaper for mummy, and I'll make you chocolate milk."
"NOOOOO......" he wails, screwing his face into a grimace of such melodramatic proportions he'd give his dear ol' mama a run for her money.
Its been this way for awhile now. Perfect, dulcid darling and then WHAP, Damien. Ahh, my toddler is expressing his ego, his sense of self. I just wish he'd do it a little more complacently.
We've even tried the Santa card. "Santa sees everything... you want him to come on Christmas Eve and bring presents, right??"
Nada. His ire is erascible. Ahh, to be three years old again. Shit, to have Santa Claus coming at all...
SO! Christmas is in a scant two days you say? Pfft. Not a single gift wrapped, not a single cookie baked (yesterday's plan for sugar cookies never took off. There's always today...) and I don't feel a lick like its Christmas. I tried, I really did - to get into the holiday spirit, but I just feel like its cold, and one day less until spring.
Don't misunderstand - i'm no Scrooge (well, at least not this year) but I *always* have a hard time at the holidays. Yeah, I'm one of those. I go into fits of somber repast that may or may not last straight through until the new year. Trust me on this one, I've good reason.
But this year, I'm not Debbie Downer, I'm not cursing all that the Holidays stand for in my black shriveled heart... I can even stand some Christmas songs without tasting last nights' ice cream sundae. I just can't say I'm all that amped for the big day. I guess I should try in the next two days to work myself up to a cheery tinsled lather - but I'm far too enraptured with my current book (Chuck Palahniuk's "Haunted") and my iTunes on shuffle. I'm sure once the nog gets passed around, I'll be Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree - but in the meantime, well,
Listening to: The Mars Volta - Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore
Posted by Anti-Stepford at 9:30 AM