So, here it is a week before Christmas (almost to the day) and I'm still nowhere near complete with the making and the shopping.I'm having exactly zero luck talking myself into being productive, either. I know I should get on with the elving -- I'll feel better, if I do -- but I just can't quite get there.
It's because Christmas is evil. I kind of wish I was a Jehovah's Witness, so I could just skip over the whole Christmas thing. OK... not really.
The fact that Christmas is a week away -- and 2012 just a couple of weeks away -- makes me feel old. Time is just going by too quickly and I desperately want it to slow down. I want to cherish the precious time I have left with The Trolls and ingrain all the seconds and minutes into my memory so, when they're off living their own lives, I'll have them close still.
It's a mom thing.
Speaking of parenting -- the State of Florida (which, the longer I live here, the more I believe is just America's trashcan) -- has been interfering. Not in hugely grave ways, but enough that my desire to home school The Trolls on a farm somewhere in the wilds of New England is reinforced. I literally have to sign a note that declares that I don't want The Nugget to be seen by state doctors to bring his weight down.
I ask you -- do either of these boys look like they're obese? According to Florida, The Nugget is. Because his BMI was something ridiculously high. Because the kid is solid muscle. No, seriously. He's been able to do chin-ups since he was two. He can pick his brother up. He's got a right hook that should be classified us a lethal weapon. So, because of his age, weight and height, I'm supposed to make him lose muscle weight so he can be classified as "healthy." This is coming from the same county and state that thinks it's completely reasonable to make young children start learning at 7:45 in the morning -- and wonders why their tests grades keep dipping. Here's a clue: they're TIRED. But I'm not allowed to let my kids get a few extra minutes of sleep (or myself, for that matter) without a truant officer showing up at the door. Yeah, that happened. The Monkey was five minutes late to school one too many times, it appears.
No, I'm not winning the mother of the year award any time soon.
OK -- now that I'm done ranting, I'm going to get some elving done before I have to get ready for the Christmas party at work. Crazy, busy time of year.