What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

Yes, I have a painting of the word "if". I also have it tattooed on my shoulder. Don't judge.

 I stuck to the shed-yule and put up my Christmas tree. The Trolls helped and fun was had by all, until it was time to go to bed, because the Christmas music was making them sleepy.

As soon as the Christmas village was put up and all a-glow, I started feeling more in the spirit of the holiday. Sure, I still have to pack. Sure, I have so much going on that I have to schedule it. But... well... there's something to be said for feeling a hell of a lot less grinchy than I have been.

It turns out that my artistic self was simply shoved into a cage while I was letting my crafty-for-Christmas self play. It also turns out that my artistic self is a loud-ass and wouldn't leave me alone until I created some art stuff. I feel much better now that I'm all covered in ink.

And I feel almost hopeful that I'll pull everything off without collapsing into a crying, nervous-breakdown-having heap by December 23rd. I can feel some Christmas miracles eeking their way in and I may very well end up being all Tiny Tim-ish before all is said and done. Honestly, I really hope so.

Update on the Battle of Mrs. Bitch-face -- the war wages on. It seems that she's upped the ante by threatening to send The Nugget to the office if he doesn't stop fidgeting. I'm going to threaten to put Ex-Lax in her coffee if she doesn't get less bitch-tastic. I say to her: BRING IT! I will go down in your memory as the Parent You Hated to Deal With of All TIME! And I will wear that badge with pride!

So... yeah, Merry Christmas 'n' stuff.