My parents have a video of me, circa 1980, with my buckteeth and Miss Piggy nightgown, banging on a pot and pan on Christmas Eve, chanting "Let's Open Presents! Let's Open Presents!" I adore presents. Birthday, Christmas, Arbor day- you name it, I'll open it. Except for this year. As I'm scrambling to get my holiday shopping done (boxes to Iraq have to be mailed by December 4th, and half of my family celebrates Hannukah and it falls early this year) I realized yesterday, that there is nothing I need for Christmas.
Would I love diamonds, pearls? Sure! But if Matt spent that kind of money right now, I'd have to kill him. The smartest thing he ever did was put me in charge of paying the bills- because it has now made me paranoid about spending any money. Ironically, my frugal husband is now blissful with his ignorance, and has now asked for an expensive camera lens.
Maybe it has something to do with our upcoming move. We're renting a smallish sized house- and our closets are bursting at the seams. I have 2 boxes in the garage that were never unpacked from the last move, and knowing that I will soon have to pack up each and every one of my belongings may have put a damper on my Christmas greed.
Or, I'm getting older. I'm going to be 35 (gasp!) in a couple of weeks. Have I finally grown up? Nah. I was laughing at poopie jokes last night.
I think it mostly has to do with my excitement in seeing my 2 little ones open their loot- I can't wait to see Lucy's face when she opens her Pat Pat Rocket. There's nothing cuter than kids in footie pajamas, opening presents... as long as they don't wear Miss Piggy nightgowns and bang on pots and pans.