Holiday Jealousy

I have heard it said that the holidays bring out the best and the worst in people. The same is apparently true for weddings and funerals. I can attest to the wedding situation, having lost a friend to bitterness and a total lack of support for my "big" day (everything about it was a problem/inconvenience for her). Th funeral one does not really bother me because I'll be dead and since my plan is to go to heaven, I should be to distracted to notice the grudge someone may be holding about my dying before returning their hand mixer.

It is sad to think that the holidays are so hard for some people. I love the holidays. I love decorating and buying gifts and being with family and friends. I love the way my kids get so  excited that they open gifts that don't even belong to them. I only have one pet peeve and it is a recently developed one. It is an issue that caught me off guard and one that I feel that I should probably be ashamed to say out loud, but shame has never stopped me before, so here it is.

I am jealous of Santa. I do all the work and he gets all the credit. I am the one that went to the store and stayed up past my bedtime to wrap presents. I did not even get credit for decorating the tree. My son thinks that elves came and did it while he was sleeping so that Santa would know where to leave the presents. He did let me know that elves can fly because that is how they got the star on the top of the tree. It just seems cruel to shout out "Elves my foot! I put up that tree and made Daddy help me decorate."

It is just not fair. He is going to thank some fat guy at the mall with a beard for my present. I know that Christmas is not about getting recognition. Don't even roll your eyes at me like that. I just have to be honest that it burns my biscuits a little. You are probably thinking, "Well, why did you teach him about Santa?" Well, Smarty, I didn't. He learned about it at that fancy Christian school he goes to. I thought they were going to teach him about Jesus and the gifts of the three wise men and do you know what I get? "Mommy, who is Santa?" (That was last year.) This year he knows. His friends talk about him and if his friends say it then it must be true. I can't explain that little Shay Shay's mom is a liar. Trust me. It would not end well.

So here I am desperately wanting a thank you and instead sending my hard fought kudos to the North Pole. Boo, Santa! Yay Mommy!