Merry Effing Christmas

The holiday season blows. I hate to be a grinch about it all, but it this year it does. I am usually Cindy Who and so excited about every stupid holiday song Husband Face is annoyed to tears. But this year we didn't even get a tree until today (usually it is purchased and decorated by the day after Thanksgiving, not joking). I am just not my usually merry self. I am guessing it is one or a combination of several of the following:

1. My daughter decided to pick up an emotional disorder. Awesome. Like having all of these crack crazed babies wasn't hard enough, I now have a two year old that twists her hair so often and forcefully she is balding. Diagnosed by my pediatrician as trichotillomania, he also said that the reason it is falling out now is due to the dry weather we are having. I am still on the fence about the diagnosis. All of my kids have twirllled their hair while falling asleep or watching tv, it is like their pacifier, so I am wary about labeling a 2 year old with 7 syllable anxiety disorder, seems a little intense. In the same breath, she does look like she is going through chemo. When we are out in public and I try to punish her all of the bystanders think I am Satan for reprimanding the poor cancer baby. Bitches, she is a stubborn little thing, not cancer ridden, move on. I can deal with a little baby pattern balding, whatever, but it has accelerated at such a rate that I haven't had time to cope with the situation. I am trying my best not to bring it up to her (if I mention it she gets really upset), she wears mittens duct taped to her pajamas at bedtime and always his a head full of leave in conditioner, however I think it has gone beyond repair and I may have to take her to get a pixie cut this week. Additionally, her twin brother has the hair of pop star Justin Bieber and she resembles a little alien. To sprinkle salt in the wound the only reason I decided to have a second child was the possibility of having a girl and my main excitement about the girl thing was the adorable hair accessories. I made over 50 bows/headbands when I was pregnant with the twins. Don't judge me. I was bed ridden and my hot glue gun was my BFF.

2. We are selling our home. Correction, we are trying to sell our home. We have had a few borderline offensive offers and what seems like a million people have seen it, but for the most part things are not happening like I had hoped. Fist of all, trying to prepare your home for potential buyers to come through and judge every carpet stain and smudged mirror is nearly impossible to successfully do with 3 kids nipping at my ankles. Then there is all the weekend projects we have to complete. I don't have a problem with doing all that stupid stuff so much as I do paying for it. Dumping money into a home you wish was out of your life is extremely painful. I neglected to mention that the main reason we are selling is due to our horrific neighbors. You think you have it bad with a barking dog or occasional loud party, oh no my friends, my neighbors are out for blood. They hate me, my kids, my dog, my car, etc... It is crazy and a whole separate blog that I will shout from the rooftops when this home is a distant memory. But the worst part is how much I love our home. It is cute and has a yard opening up to a park (key for the children to burn off energy before their strictly enforced naps). We bought the place as a foreclosure and put a ton of work into it once we moved in. And yes, we outgrew it the day we moved into it (I found out I was having the twins a month after we closed escrow) but I have always said that it has made us one of those close families, like the Cosby's, but white and poorer (a doctor and a lawyer, really, that is like the earning potential lottery).

Update: Since writing this my children have literally burnt down their room. Not joking, blog post deltailing their craziness is written, just need to add pics to complete the mess. The aroma of smoke hitting you as soon as you open the door should make this place a lot easier to sell.


3. The best friend has left the building. Actually the continent. She decided to go teach English to Korean children. I tried to convince her that my kids suck at English and to just stay in my garage, teach them some words or commas or whatever, indefinitely. Strangely living a metropolitan lifestyle in a foreign city sounded more appealing to her than my suburban one car garage. Whatever. This makes me seem codependent, but I am not, promise. By no means are either of us those type of women that must hang out every day and braid each others hair. Oh no, we mock those people. However, there has never been a year in my life (since I was 5) when we were not in constant communication with one another. We went through K-12 together and then remained in the San Diego for college. Hell, we even went to the same college. And know she has left me. High and dry for what has been presented as a year adventure, I have a sneaking suspicion will evolve into a lifetime of foreign men, countries and food. It is kind of gross/sad that I didn't have to cultivate deep relationships past the age of five, now I am reaping those consequences. South Korea has shitty Internet and is like a day and a half ahead of my time zone. We have also concluded that we are the only people using video chat for non sexual reasons and happy hour via the interwebs is near impossible. Additionally, I am so jealous of her Korean escapades. As much as I love living the housewife wet dream, it would be amazing to be able to pick up and just go live anywhere, just for the hell of it.


As a side note: I do have pretty amazing friends here. But I am a hard person to peg. The 25 year old mom of three little kids who curses too often, drinks too much and probably won't agree with anything you say just for the hell of it, is not the most popular girl. Moms don't want to be my friend because of the aforementioned reasons and people my own age have way too much free time on their hands and don't seem to really understand all the responsibilities I have everyday, regardless of the hangover...

4. We are sick. Always. This nasal headache (accompanied by a lovely hacking cough) will follow me to my grave. And the kids just pass it to each other like dirty hookers. No one in my family has been 100% healthy since the twins were born. It is zero fun spending money you don't have, for a holiday you don't believe in, while sick. Can it be January?


I know I will be fine and snap out of this funk, but this is my bitchy blog post. Tomorrow (or maybe the day after) I will post one about how my kids ooze cuteness or something humerous involving their puke. It has been a rough week/month/year. I am sure I will experience a Christmas miracle soon enough, but I wouldn't bet any virgin births on it.