The Most Magical Time Of The Year Returns…This Time With Less Screeching!

 

It’s the most magical time of the year….

Bitchmas is back baby!

To be honest, I sort of failed at it this year.    I reflected upon  my behavior of previous years where no one was to touch the freaking decorations until I was finished and decided that maybe, just perhaps, I had somehow lost the true spirit of Christmas…sort of like that lady that pepper sprayed a crowd at WalMart to get her XBox on Black Friday but with less violence…just a lot of death threats, general insults and probably as many tears.  But no pushing or hitting because even I have my limits.

Anyway.

I went into it with the best of intentions.    Here were my personal guidelines:

1. TSM shall not scream, intimidate or generally threaten anyone smaller than herself.   Husbands are fair game.
2. TSM shall not break into a sweat, wring her hands or pace back and forth rapidly should any of the decorations be placed without her explicit permission and even worse, without care or concern for symmetry.
3. TSM recognizes and admits there is no place in the holiday season for swearing, and most especially eff bombs.   Because that is totally not fucking cool, that’s why.

I did  really well too.  Especially with numbers one and three which honestly, I felt was a big accomplishment.    It was number two that got me.   I’m not sure when it happened, or even what I said really.   All I know is Mr. C was helping me put one of the garlands up….it’s a complicated beast, full of nutcrackers and blue and clear glass ornaments.   I’m telling you, if one of the nutcrackers or ornaments is not in it’s proper place it’s like the end of the world for me.

So like I said, I did really well, or at least I thought I did and Mr. C was working right along side me.   The failure came to light when Miss G decided to step in and a very loud Mr. C saw her placing an ornament not quite in the right place and shouted, “No G!!!  It has to be spatially correct!!!”

You may ask yourself given the above set of rules, why on earth a 12 year old boy who has never given a single thought to spatial correctness might come up with such a statement.   Personally, I was wondering the same thing.   My best guess is that I possibly, maybe, could have muttered something under my breath and Mr. C  having lived through Bitchmas for as long as he can remember, knows that this particular day is not the day to mess with Mom.

Fa la la la la….La la la….

That was my big wake up call.   Kids should have fun decorating, not listening to the mad rants of their obsessive compulsive former decorator mothers, right?    Right.    So I resolved at that moment to shut my mouth and let them do what they wanted.

The result was this:

What is it you ask?   Is it giant alien carolers taking over a small town and scaring the tiny people below with their loud rendition of Jingle Bells?   No, it is not.   The carolers were a gift to my daughter from my SMIL (Step Mother In Law)  and Miss G wanted nothing more than for them to have the spotlight somewhere in our home to show off her new treasure.   It’s not that I hate them, they are actually kind of cute.   They just don’t fit exactly where I would have envisioned them.   Instead, they sit  in the middle of our den terrorizing the little people of the village where they will remain, much to my chagrin, for the remainder of the holiday season.

But I didn’t stop there…oh, no….I even let them put the ornaments on the tree.    Even my prized Radko’s from a stock market long ago when I thought spending fifty bucks on a single ornament was a perfectly sane thing to do.     We even made it through without any breakage, save for one ballerina bunny who lost her foot to a Spider Man ornament in a tragic land grab for what was deemed to be the perfect tree limb.

The tree itself looks pretty good except for the gaping holes in coverage and the total lack of concern for placement of small ornaments at the top, big ornaments at the bottom.   Heck, even some of the ugly ornaments that I normally put on the back of the tree for balance and coverage made it to the front.   But you know what?   I don’t care.    I learned that the true spirit of Christmas lies in the hearts of children…watching them excitedly decorate, talking about each ornament along the way.   The holes in the tree and the ugly ornaments just don’t matter.

Oh who am I kidding.  I’m totally going to rearrange everything once they go to sleep.

Merry Bitchmas,

TSM