Santa is just self-conscious

I realized this year I am too dumb to be Santa. My children are inquisitive and observant and I'm starting to think....smarter than I am. It all began at the mall with Luke. "Mom, who is that guy in a Santa Suit?" I replied, "Well buddy, who do you think he is? Do you think he is one of Santa's Helpers, or just some creepy dude who doesn't have a job?" He answered, "A creepy dude who doesn't have a job?" Since he wasn't completely convinced I had a small chance to explain why there is a grown ass man having children he doesn't know sit on his lap in a costume. Sounds like a pedophile's dream job personally and I hate Mall Santa's. I had a moral dilemma. Do I express my distain for creepy mall santa's, or do I use some quick thinking and diffuse the situation? Since I think I maybe have one or two years left for Luke to believe in Santa I threw out the first lie of the season. "Well Luke, it's true, that's not santa, but he is actually a man who takes the information the kids give him and sends off an email to Santa about what everyone asked for." I am such a genius baby! Woot Woot. Luke eyes me suspiciously and says "cant you email just as easily as that guy can?" SHIT!! "Uh, yeah, but santa is super busy and only wants to have to read the emails from his helpers, wow look how awesome that plastic dog in Old Navy is, lets go look at it." That was my first mistake this Christmas. The most recent mistake is even worse. This one came from Claire. "Mom, I want to sleep under the tree so I can see Santa when he comes." Luke adds, "Yeah, he'd just go back up the chimney if he saw us right?" I have only a couple seconds to think of my response, Luke went back to playing his video game and only Claire waited for my response..."Claire, he doesn't want anyone to see him. If you are near the fireplace then he won't even come in". "But mom, why doesn't he want to be seen?" If I could have a redo of my response I would take it in an instant. It is to this day one of the stupidest things I have ever said to my children. "Well Claire, he doesn't want anyone to see him because he is so fat. He doesn't want people to make fun of him" "She responded with a slew of comments about all the fat people she loves (myself included) and how she would never make fun of him. The reason my daughter thinks Santa doesn't let you see him is because he is self conscious about his weight. DAMNIT. It couldn't be because it makes him lose his magical powers, or because he loves children so much that he would be tempted to play with their new toys with them and the other kids wouldn't get their toys in time. She thinks it is because he is fat. I really wish there would be a book that parents could read to prepare us for all the secrets we need to keep from our kids. I am a HORRIBLE liar. And If I were Santa I'd feel a little self conscious, and lets face it, how does he get that huge body up an itty bitty chimney. Why cant we make up characters whose super powers are slightly more believable. I gotta start reading up on St. Patricks day so I don't say something stupid about how leprechauns don't like to be seen because they are self conscious about their height!

Pierced my nose re-post

I posted this right after my 30th birthday, but due to the negative comments about it I pulled it from my blog. I have made it less offensive and less dramatic to appease a few people, but I like the post and this is my effing blog and I can post whatever I want. So here it is...again

PIERCING MY NOSE

Yesterday was the day. The last three months have taken a major toll on my psyche. My new antidepressant is phenomenal at minimizing my anxiety and depression. Unfortunately I still have feelings and since I don't feel anxious or depressed I have created a fallback emotion. Rebellious. I am so tired of being what people expect me to be. I figured being a little obnoxious, caustic, cynical and foul-mouthed was rebellious enough for the past 30 years, but it's just not cutting the cheese anymore. I have experienced enough change in this past year that I have had to start from ground zero and figure out who I am. My parents divorced after 40 years of marriage, my only sister who i love with every fiber of my being moved to London for atleast 3 years; both of these devastating changes came right around the time of my 30th birthday.. So what do you do when your entire family as you know it collapses and you are depressed about turning 30? You pierce your nose duh! Not only do you pierce your nose, but you take every penny you have in your checking account and lose it all on a blackjack table at the local casino. While at that Blackjack table you break down and have a Bloody Mary. Then you drive home a couple drinks later, only to pass three separate cop cars and get pulled over for driving drunk. Hmmmmm, which is going to piss my husband off more...losing the money, piercing the nose, drinking, or the DWI. This is the part where I say screw it all and I hide in my jail cell until I am finally freed. I take a bus home (after charming the bus driver to drive me for free since I don't have a penny after losing it all to Jessica the luckiest damn dealer at the Turning Stone Casino). I get home, don't tell my husband about any of it, and take our Unregistered Honda Pilot to Canada where I hide until my mother tracks me down because my husband rats me out to her and knows she will lay the guilt on thick. I look at my gnarly guilt ridden face in the rear view mirror of my pilot and realize my life is truly jacked but damn my nose ring looks good. This is precisely how my night started last night. Fortunately for me when the Beer Wench at the Casino came along I said no to the Bloody Mary, because for me there is no such thing as one drink. Just like there is no such thing as one doughnut either. That one choice, the one to not drink erased the rest of the night I may have had. There was no DWI, no jail, no Canada. I made my fair share of mistakes last night however and it was a huge wakeup call. I realized I need to start anew. Turning 30 means I can't dink around and pity myself anymore, I spose I will have to be a grown up now. I am glad now that I didn't pierce my nose....but who really knows what tomorrow brings.

Holiday Spirit

I have had a blog in mind for the past couple of days. I was going to write a really cynical something about how rude and pushy and inconsiderate people have been this Christmas season. The post was going to be witty, have the word jerk and freak at least five times. It was going to be pointed and yes, offensive. I was going to end the whole thing with a bit about my husband and what a pain in the ass he is. But I learned something today that has completely obliterated my desire to be offensive, or cynical or critical. I got a call from my friend Amanda telling me that a friend of mine has just found out that her husband has stage 3 Lymphoma. They are in their early 30's. They have three small children under the age of five. They are outstanding people, stalwart in the church and community. They are the kind of people I have forgotten exist. This holiday season while I have been complaining about my husbands lack of appreciation for his gifts, on the other side of the country another family is trying to survive; grieving, hoping, and praying. I think of how selfish I am, how I think my problems are the end of the world, and I am ashamed at my lack of perspective. Devastation is one phone call away. It could be my mother, brother, husband, sister, friend or child who has experienced tragedy. This post is not meant to depress, but is more to apologize. I know that my blog is sarcastic, offensive, and according to my sister...highly dramatized. I have critiqued and picked apart the actions of my husband and friends, and claimed I have learned who I am. I have been wrong (though I'm not promising to stop). I haven't learned who I am yet because life is ever changing. We are tested, tried and constantly challenged. While I have been distracted by the little annoying tests in life, others have lost loved ones and have endured with grace. I haven't paid any attention though, too much "learning about myself", which is code for ignoring others in need to whine about why I am unhappy. My prayers go out to Heidi and her family. I am praying for a Christmas miracle for them, because they deserve it. This Christmas I will quit thinking about what I have lost and better appreciate what I have.

I SHRUNK THE SHRINK

I got a call from my mom last night and she had the most bizarre news for me I have had in a really long time. You see, when I was a Senior in High School I was bulimic to the point where I had to be institutionalized to bring my electrolites back into balance. I was at the Center for Change for two months under the care of a Psychologist by the name of Dr. Harold Frost. I'm kind of a tough nut to crack so our therapy sessions were anti-climatic and completely unhelpful. Visualizing rainbows and rivers and building self esteem. It was all bullshit in my opinion but I had to go to Therapy twice a week regardless. There was no deep dark abuse to uncover, no pervy uncle, no Post Traumatic Stress, I just liked to eat without gaining weight. Our therapy sessions turned into more of a gossip session, he would tell me about how jacked the other girls were, which ones had attempted suicide etc. It was fascinating. He tried to hypnotize me a couple times to "Uncover my past" but the whole time he was trying to get my mind to submit to him I was thinking about what a crock of shit he was. I mean really, he sits in a super comfy chair across from pretty girls, talks about what makes them sad and then hugs them with a groan of satisfaction(pervy bastard). For all of this fantastic treatment he gets $25k. So when my mom asked me last night if I had ever been hypnotized by this man I chuckled and responded not really. He had tried, but I was on to his garbage from the start. The reason she asked me was because he has allegedly lost his medical license for planting false memories into his patients. Under hypnosis he had convinced several women that they had been part of a cult that sacrificed babies and had satanic rituals. WOW!!! People had come in with minor Psychological problems and he had filled their minds with an entire false past! At last my skepticism has paid off. My parents wasted $25k for therapy I never received because I shrunk the shrink. Ultimately shrinking the shrink may have saved my mind from his bizarre contamination. Weird.