Trick or treating for Christmas presents

It seems like every year, the Christmas spirit sneaks up on me a little sooner than it did the year before. It's barely October and I'm already in the holiday mood! I think I get that from my dad. Most of my memories that I have with him are associated with Christmas because that was the only time of year that he insisted that we stay with him and that we stayed more than a weekend. I don't like a lot of things about him, but he used to crack me up during the holidays. He would just be walking through the house, chewing tobacco or picking his nose or whatever it was, and all of a sudden, he would start dancing and singing Jingle Bells or Rudolph at the the top of his lungs. My dad and I are alike in that you can actually see a shift in mood from one moment to the next and it doesn't take much to make us break into song and dance. I do the exact same thing sometimes and it makes me happy in a weird, nostalgic way.

So, all that nonsense having been said, I've caught Christmas Fevah, baby! I'm so incredibly stoked about it; I can't wait. Christmas is so much more fun now that I have a baby. He drives me to do incredibly uncharacteristic things, such as wake up at 5 a.m. just to go to Toys R Us to get him the latest Elmo. I was up at 4 a.m on Christmas Eve last year, trying to put his kitchen together (lovingly referred to as that damn peice of f*%$ing s@!&*) and let me tell you...was that a pain in the heiny. For some strange reason (probably derangement), the people who make these blasphemous toys insist on including thousands of little stickers that crinkle and stick all over themselves (and everything but the spot where they're supposed to be) if you so much as dare to breath or look at them funny. After I fought with the entirety of Satans Sticker Collection, I painstakingly wrapped all of his other stuff in Bert and Ernie wrapping paper (I am by no means a gift wrapping artist. I am personally responsible for the huge success of the gift bag). Finally, I crawled into bed, managed to close my eyes for about an hour and then it was up for Christmas breakfast and the unveiling of his christmas presents (Read: All of Mommy's Hard Work). I grabbed him out of bed and we went squealing into the living room...where he proceeded to watch me open his christmas presents while he peeled all the stickers off his kitchen.

You think it sounds bad. You think it sounds sucky. But it is all worth it. It's worth it and so much more to see the look on his face when he finally wakes up and realizes Hey, I have a refrigerator with magnets on it...and a microwave and a stove.... I've cried every Christmas since he's been born and I think it's a tradition. Most people grow out of the Christmas spirit, but I've had to grow into it. It took having a baby and finally being able to be with my own mother on Christmas (yes, that's what I said...I've been with my mother on Christmas a grand total of 2 times now) to really get into it. I don't have to be dragged around to distant relatives houses and forced to make excited noises and faces with every sweater I open. I just get to hang out with my kid and my real family and decorate the tree and fight and eat too much and then take a biiiigg nap.

Ho ho ho bitches...it's Christmas time!

If You Are Any Indication of What Husbands Are Like...

I was approached by another married man today. I was in Walgreens (buying Midol...hot, I know) and he was browsing through the pain pills...you're right, no one ever browses through pain pills...unless they are trying to act casual and come up with a slick line to throw at some unsuspecting, PMSing chick at Walgreens. I saw him out of the corner of my I eye and I knew it was coming. I saw the wedding ring and I even noticed the picture of who I presumed to be his two sons and infant daughter on his key chain.

Finally (not in the sense that I was looking forward to it, but it was getting a little weird in that aisle, let me tell you) he steps over to me and says, "Hey, how ya doin?" Wow. All that time reading the back of a box of Advil and that's what you got? He reached out and I could tell he was going to touch my arm, so I smiled and stepped around him and scurried up to the counter and then out the door.

Someone tell me: What is it about me that makes a man think, "Now there's a girl I would want to cheat on my wife with"? It might sound to some people like a compliment, but I feel just a little bit more offended and insulted every time it happens. I'm not the girl you'd want to date. I'm not the girl you want to take home to mom. I'm not the girl you'd like to make love to. I'm the girl you want to score with in the cab of your pick up in between picking the kids up from school and watching Survivor with your wife. I cannot even begin to explain how flattered I am not.

And the timing of this particular approach is a slightly ironic, considering that just yesterday, Aaron and I had this big discussion about how I could never, ever trust anyone %100 to never do anything...good people do bad things and men are notorious for letting their most unattractive body part make some pretty hefty decisions. How could I ever say, "I know that ________ would never cheat on me" when on a regular basis, nice, professional, well respected family men are coming up to me at Hobby Lobby (while their cute pregnant wife shops for supplies to hand make her own baby annoucements) and Wal-Mart (their arms full of tampons and Cosmo and Russell Stovers and Hallmark Cards for their menstruating princess) and out and out asking me for some ass? They don't even bother to hide it which leads me to believe that there must be something about me that screams, "Yes, I am willing to have meaningless, inappropriate and incredibly risky sex with you! Married? Psssh, who cares?" If anyone could just explain to me what that particular something is...

And in the tradition of being honest, yes, I have made this particular mistake before--I have been the "other girl" on several occasions. But that was in the past...can men smell it on me? Can they tell that I've been guilty of that indiscretion before and assume that that I'll most likely do it again? I hope not. I hope this is just a phase. I hope that these adulterous assholes stop coming up to me and disrespecting their wives and myself. I have matured so much. I'm not that girl anymore, damn it. I'm not the girl who is always up for cheap thrills anymore. These days, if I'm not wearing panties, I just forgot. I think monogamy is a beautiful thing, not just a big, extinct word. I want to have a relationship, not just sex. I no longer think it's exciting to barely make it out the door, bra in purse, zipping my pants, before his wife pulls into the driveway. I am now able to put myself in her position and feel that pain and it makes all the difference in the world as far as my attitude is concerned. There's nothing like being cheated on to make you stop and think before you jump into someone else's bed with someone else's man.

And these past mistakes...are they holding me back in my newest and most amazing relationship? Do I subconciously assume that if I can't keep it in my pants, no one else can? Do I want him to cheat, so that I feel better about some of the thing I've done? I know that my experiences with men have drastically decreased my chances of trusting someone again, but am I a little bit to blame, too? Is my lack of self-control, my dirtiest secret, my most basic desire, the reason that I am so incredibly repulsed by other people's unfaithful husbands? Is it because, deep down, I am scared that I'm just like them? That one day, I'm going to be reading the back of a box of Advil, trying to think of something slick to say to get someone to get naked for me?

Oh, look at this big box of worms I've opened up! Whatever the reasoning, I hate these men and their arrogance and irresponsibility and carelessness. I hate to think of their oblivious wives. I hate to think of their adoring children. I hate that they look at me and wonder what color my panties are and if I'll give them a peek. Your wife has panties...and she gave birth to your children...and she lets you watch Sportscenter...go ask her for a peek.

Hmm...