Bah Humbug

I know 'tis the season and all that, but I can't help but get a little cranky and stressed this time of year. It feels like there's too much to do, and not enough time to do it. And I do resent the fact that I run around like a chicken with my head cut off to make my kids' Christmas extra special, and some freakin' fictional fat guy gets all the glory. Bah humbug indeed. Plus, I have to take care of all the shopping not only for my own side of the family, but A's as well--and they don't even celebrate Christmas! It sure must be nice to be A, to just walk around oblivious to all the behind-the-scenes work and just say, "so, what did we get for my parents?" ARGH! At the end of the day, it's all OK though because I do love this time of year, and I think H and T do, too. I want them to have incredible Christmas memories, because sadly, I don't have any. It's not that I had bad Christmases, it's just that my parents never got into the whole "Santa-is-coming-leave-milk-and-cookies-open-gifts-Christmas-morning" thing so I don't really remember ever believing in Santa. When I was a kid, I remember my mom wrapping gifts in front of me, signing "from Santa" and then handing them to me to place under the tree. She wasn't a Scrooge--Santa just was not part of her culture so was not even on her radar. H and T truly do believe, and I want them to keep that magic and innocence as long as they can, even if Mom is a big Grinch sometimes.

Another Scrooge-y comment: 'Tis the season for terrible misuse of the apostrophe. Don't card companies have an obligation to correct "Happy Holiday's" or "From the Brown's"?

Jiminy Cricket!

Apparently, we have camelback crickets in our basement. A and I have found and smushed about a half dozen of them over the last couple weeks. They are gross little things. As faithful readers of this blog know, I am much less squeamish about critters than I used to be, but these are pretty nasty. They've got super long antennae and these crazy hinged legs that let them hop far and fast.

They've grossed me out so much that I broke down and called the Orkin man today. Apparently, females can lay hundreds of eggs at one time and the thought of walking into the laundry room one night to be confronted by a roomful of these hateful creatures was too much for me.

We just got back from a long weekend in Grand Cayman--it was great, though I did worry that the crickets were multiplying in my basement while we were enjoying sand and surf. H and T both snorkeled, though T was not a huge fan--he likes to do it in the pool, but doesn't like putting his face in the sea water. H made it all the way out to the reef by the beach, but they both got to see some cool fish and underwater life. We also went out to Stingray City, where I once again proved my increased tolerance for critters. I carried both kids while they clung desperately to my neck, legs wrapped around my waist for fear that they might actually touch a stingray. I, on the other hand, let them flop all over me. I don't really consider myself a beach person, but this was a great beach vacation because there was a lot of stuff to do other than sit around on the beach and drink yummy pina coladas.

Random thought of the day: I've heard a lot of people using the phrase 800-pound gorilla in a way that I don't think is correct. I've always thought 800-pound gorilla refers to an industry leader that can throw its weight around--I've come across many of these in negotiating contracts (to wit: "We're Microsoft, and that's just the way we do it"). But recently I've heard it used in the following context, including in a commercial about retirement or something: "Can't ignore the 800-pound gorilla in the room." Is that a correct usage or a bastardization of the original usage? I get the concept, but I always thought it was something else, like maybe the elephant in the room? But not the white elephant, because then we're mixing metaphors again....